Paradise Pokeball System

Vol. 2 Chapter 93: Triple Threat Stream Alert! Turn Your Notifications On!(+18)

I closed my eyes, feeling the world shift and fold around me. When I opened them, I was standing in the hallway on the top floor of the tallest building in Prisma. This skyscraper sat at the very heart of Prisma City, overlooking the streets where my friends were currently engaged in their scavenger hunt. But this heights of this spire were ruled by a massive personality hidden behind a pair of gold-plated doors.

I didn’t bother knocking. I pushed them open, and the VIP penthouse revealed itself with a wall of upbeat, bass-heavy music. Iono was in her element, spinning in her gaming chair as floating Magnemite cameras buzzed around her like curious, electronic birds. She wore her signature oversized hairclips and a coat that looked as if it were woven from pure, neon light.

"And we're LIVE—wait, no, we're PRIVATE! SHUT IT DOWN!" she shouted, hitting a kill-switch on her console the moment she saw me. "Landon! The fans—well, the 'inner circle' group-chat fans—have been losing their minds! Where did the Star go? Is he safe? Is he brooding? You can't just disappear like that, babe; it's bad for the metrics!"

She hopped over, her feet barely touching the plush carpet as she seized my hands. Her eyes sparkled with that manic, infectious energy she always carried.

"I’ve been editing the footage from the prehistoric trip," she said, pulling me toward her oversized monitor. It was filled with "leaked" videos she shared among the girls—moments of us training, laughing, and the more intimate encounters we had shared. "I keep everyone updated so they don't miss you too much. But now that the Main Event is actually here..."

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Some of the girls are a little restless, Landon. We’ve all been feeling the stress coming through the bond. I think we need something to lift the spirits. A 'Welcome Home' special. Just for us."

I looked at the cameras, then back at her. I could see the genuine concern lurking behind her streamer persona. She wanted to help me decompress, but she wanted to do it in the way she knew best—by creating a shared experience.

Iono’s eyes widened, a flicker of something sharp and hungry crossing her face. She leaned back into her neon-padded gamer chair, tapping a finger against her lip as her hair clips twitched in sync with her racing thoughts.

"A triple threat?" she whispered, her voice dropping the high-pitched persona for something far more intimate. "Landon, the engagement wouldn't just spike; it would break the scale. Nemona’s raw, Paldean intensity, Joy’s 'undivided attention to detail,' and Grusha—your ice queen—at the center of the storm. The three of them... it’s the perfect collab. But," she paused, her gaze traveling down the length of my new gear, "we aren't doing that today. A legendary stream needs a countdown, El-Bee. We need to let the tension build until the air in this city practically catches fire."

She stood up, moving toward me with a predatory grace. "Besides," she purred, dragging me over to a chair before dropping to her knees on the plush, neon-blue carpet, "you look like you’re carrying the weight of three different timelines on those shoulders. I can’t have my star performer distracted by 'big sad' energy when we finally go live tomorrow."

She reached up, her small, cool hands unbuckling the tactical straps of my new trousers with practiced ease. I felt the air hit my skin, the contrast sharp against the heat radiating from her.

"Iono, I—"

"Shh," she interrupted, looking up at me through her long, colorful lashes. She didn't look away as she freed me from the fabric, her breath hitching slightly at the sight of how much I was reacting to her. "Talk to me, Landon. No cameras. No chat. Just tell me what’s eating you while I... eat you."

As she took me into the warm, wet heat of her mouth, I let out a low, guttural groan, my head snapping back against the headrest. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. She was talented, using a rhythmic, focused intensity that proved she knew exactly how to manage a 'stream,' even an offline one.

"The system," I managed to choke out, my fingers tangling in her hair. I watched the way her cheeks hollowed, her eyes staying locked on mine, challenging me not to break. "The Primordial itch... it’s getting louder. Every time I fight, I feel like I'm losing a piece of the man who first woke up in that garden."

Iono didn't stop. Her tongue swirled with a technical precision that made my toes curl into the carpet. She looked up, her face flushed and her lips glistening, and pulled back for a split second to catch her breath.

"Then don’t use it," she whispered, her voice thick. "Whatever you're afraid of becoming... give it to me. Burn it off right here. Just train harder so you don't need to use it. Be strong on your own, with us at your side."

She went back to work, her pace quickening as her hands gripped my thighs to keep me anchored. The heat was stifling now, the scent of her citrus perfume mixing with the musk of my own arousal. I felt the tension of the Guzma fight, the shadow of Giovanni, and the weight of Necrozma all beginning to melt away, channeled into the singular, pulsing heat of her mouth. Every flick of her tongue was like a line of code being rewritten, forcing me to focus on the raw, physical reality of the present.

The neon lights of the penthouse blurred into streaks of pink and blue as the climax built. I looked down at her—the girl who lived her life behind a screen, now completely, viscerally real.

"Tomorrow," I growled as she buried her face, my muscles coiling as the release finally hit—a massive surge of energy that felt like the literal heartbeat of the city responding to the relief. “I will train tomorrow.”

Iono didn't flinch, taking every bit of me with a triumphant, devious look in her eyes. She stayed there for a moment after I finished, her head resting against my leg as my breathing slowly evened out and the room stopped spinning.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a small, satisfied smirk playing on her lips. "Legendary," she breathed. "Now, go get some lunch, Landon. You're going to need your strength. Tomorrow, we give Prisma the show of a lifetime."

I stood up and adjusted my gear, feeling significantly lighter, even as the hunger in my stomach reminded me that lunch with the rest of the girls was the next stop on the list.

[Review me, you filthy casuals! I write the free book, you write the 50 word blurb about how much it sucks! LEZ GO!]