Riveria Ljos Alf | Danmachi Is It Wrong To Try To Pick Up Girls In A Dungeon

The twilight hues of Orario painted the sky in strokes of rose and amethyst as Riveria Ljos Alf, the serene and powerful mage of the Loki Familia, found herself in an unprecedented state of quiet contemplation. Tonight, the usual cacophony of the adventurers’ district was a distant murmur, a lull before the storm of the next expedition. She stood on the balcony of her chambers, the cool night air caressing her pale elven skin and rustling the long, verdant strands of her hair. Her emerald eyes, usually sharp with strategic brilliance, held a softness tonight, a yearning that had been growing within her like a clandestine bloom. It was Bell Cranel, the Hestia Familia's burgeoning hero, whose presence had somehow managed to unravel the stoic facade she had maintained for centuries. He was… different. Not in the way of other men who sought power, glory, or fleeting pleasure. Bell sought connection, understanding, and a genuine desire to protect. These were qualities that, over countless shared moments in the Dungeon’s depths and the city's bustling streets, had begun to chip away at Riveria's carefully constructed emotional walls.

She traced the rim of her wine goblet, the chilled liquid doing little to quench the subtle heat that simmered beneath her skin whenever her thoughts turned to him. It was absurd, she told herself. An elf of her age and stature, a pillar of wisdom and experience, being so flustered by a boy barely in his teens. Yet, his innocence, his unwavering kindness, and the surprising strength he wielded not just with his sword, but with his heart, had captured her attention in a way no one else ever had. She remembered his first tentative steps into the Dungeon, the fear in his eyes that he bravely pushed aside to save a fallen adventurer. She recalled his earnest gratitude, the way his gaze met hers with an unburdened sincerity that was both disarming and deeply touching. It was a dangerous fascination, she knew, a deviation from the path of focused duty and strategic advancement that had defined her existence. But tonight, the logic of her elven mind was losing its grip to the insistent rhythm of her heart.

A soft knock echoed through the quiet room, startling her from her reverie. Her heart gave a sudden, unexpected leap. She knew, with an instinct honed by years of perception, who it was. Taking a slow, steadying breath, she turned from the balcony, her robes of delicate silk rustling softly. She opened the door to find him standing there, his usually bright eyes a little uncertain, a small, hesitant smile playing on his lips. He was dressed simply, his adventurer’s gear absent, a testament to the late hour and the informal nature of his visit. The scent of his honest perspiration, mingled with the faint aroma of the forest from his training, reached her, and a wave of warmth washed over her. He held a small, crudely wrapped package in his hands.

“Riveria-san,” Bell Cranel began, his voice a soft murmur that seemed to vibrate through her very soul. “I… I hope I’m not disturbing you. I just finished some… late-night training, and I found this. I thought you might like it.” He extended the package. Riveria’s gaze flickered from his earnest face to the gift. It was a bouquet of the rare Moonpetal flowers, their luminescence faint even in the dim light of the corridor. They were known for their soothing properties, their subtle, intoxicating fragrance said to ease the mind and open the heart. The thoughtfulness of his gesture, so perfectly attuned to her own unspoken need for peace and quietude, nearly stole her breath.

“Bell,” she replied, her voice a little huskier than usual. She accepted the flowers, her fingers brushing against his. The brief contact sent a jolt of electricity through her, a sensation far more potent than any spell. “You are never a disturbance. Come in.” She stepped aside, inviting him into her private chambers. The room was a testament to her refined tastes – elegant, uncluttered, with an aura of quiet power. Books lined the walls, and an intricate tapestry depicting an ancient elven prophecy adorned one side. The air was filled with the subtle scent of dried herbs and the faint, earthy aroma of her magic.

Bell entered hesitantly, his gaze taking in the room with a respectful curiosity. He seemed a little overwhelmed, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor when wielding his sword. Riveria closed the door, the soft click signaling a return to a more intimate space. She placed the Moonpetals in a crystal vase on her desk, their ethereal glow illuminating the room with a soft, otherworldly light. “They are beautiful, Bell. Thank you.” Her smile was genuine now, the earlier melancholy replaced by a burgeoning, intoxicating excitement. She watched him as he stood awkwardly, his gaze occasionally drifting to her, then quickly away, a blush creeping up his neck. The unspoken tension in the air began to thicken, becoming almost palpable.

“Riveria-san,” Bell started again, his voice a little tighter this time. “I… I wanted to talk to you. About… things.” He gestured vaguely, his eyes meeting hers again, this time holding her gaze with a newfound intensity. There was a vulnerability in his expression, an openness that mirrored the feelings brewing within her. He was wrestling with something, and his hesitance suggested it was something deeply personal. Riveria felt a surge of protectiveness, a desire to soothe whatever turmoil he was experiencing. She moved closer to him, her soft steps barely making a sound on the plush carpet. She reached out, her fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. His skin was warm, smooth, and surprisingly firm beneath her touch. He flinched slightly, then leaned into her caress, his eyes closing for a brief moment.

“You can tell me anything, Bell,” she whispered, her voice a low, melodic hum. “We have shared many battles together, faced dangers few can comprehend. You have shown me a strength of spirit that I, in my long years, have rarely witnessed. Whatever troubles you, you do not have to bear it alone.” Her gaze softened further, her pupils dilating slightly as she took in the earnestness of his features, the faint hint of stubble on his chin, the flush that now painted his cheeks a deeper hue. The air between them crackled with an energy that had nothing to do with magic, but with something far more primal, far more ancient. It was the unspoken language of attraction, the magnetic pull of two souls recognizing a deep, resonant connection.

Bell opened his eyes, and the vulnerability was still there, but now mingled with a spark of something else – a desire that mirrored her own. “It’s… it’s about you, Riveria-san,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Ever since I met you… I’ve felt… I don’t know. Different. You’re so wise, so strong, so beautiful. And… and I find myself thinking about you. All the time.” He took a shaky breath, his gaze now fixed on her lips. “I know I’m just a boy, and you’re… you’re Riveria Ljos Alf. But…”

Riveria felt a tremor run through her. His confession, so raw and honest, struck a chord deep within her. Centuries of experience, of detached observation, had never prepared her for this raw, unfiltered confession of a young man’s burgeoning feelings. She leaned closer, her lips parting slightly. “You are not ‘just a boy,’ Bell,” she said, her voice a soft caress. “You are a hero. And you have shown me a side of myself I had long forgotten. A side that craves… connection. Warmth. Tenderness.” Her emerald eyes, now alight with a passion that belied her usual composure, searched his. “Do you truly feel this way?” she asked, her voice laced with a desperate hope.

Bell nodded, his gaze unwavering now. He reached up, his hesitant hand finding hers. Their fingers intertwined, a silent promise passing between them. The Moonpetals on the desk seemed to glow brighter, their subtle fragrance filling the air, intoxicating and sweet. Riveria gently pulled him closer, her other hand resting on his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heart against her palm. “Then perhaps,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine, “we can explore this feeling, together.”

Her kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration, a gentle testing of boundaries. Bell responded with an eagerness that surprised her, his lips parting under hers, his hands finding her waist, drawing her flush against his body. Riveria’s elven grace was no match for the raw, youthful passion that surged from him. Her initial reserve melted away, replaced by a yearning as potent as his own. Her arms wound around his neck, her fingers tangling in his soft, unruly hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. It was a dance of discovery, of two souls entwined, their long-held desires finally finding an outlet.

She felt the heat radiating from him, the eager press of his body against hers. Her elven body, usually so controlled and precise, responded with an uncharacteristic urgency. Her breath hitched as his tongue met hers, a playful, tantalizing exploration that sent waves of heat through her. His hands moved, sliding down her back, caressing the curve of her waist, then moving lower, to the swell of her hips, pulling her even tighter against him. Riveria moaned softly into his mouth, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure. She felt a delightful friction against her thighs, the undeniable proof of his arousal, and a thrill shot through her. She had never felt this way, this breathless, this consumed by another. Her years of experience, her knowledge of arcane arts, suddenly seemed insignificant compared to the raw, potent magic of human (and half-human) connection.

Riveria pulled back slightly, her emerald eyes blazing with a newfound fire. “Bell,” she breathed, her voice husky. “You… you ignite something within me.” She ran a hand down his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, the tension in his muscles. He was breathing heavily, his eyes dark with desire. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, “Let me show you what centuries of longing can feel like.”

She led him gently towards her bed, the soft, silken sheets a silent invitation. As they lay down, Riveria shed her outer robes, revealing a delicate, silken chemise that clung to her curves. Bell’s gaze was fixed on her, his admiration palpable. He fumbled with the ties of his tunic, his movements a little clumsy, fueled by his own burgeoning desire. Riveria watched him, a soft smile playing on her lips. She reached out, her fingers tracing the line of his collarbone, then slowly down his chest. His skin was warm and smooth, his muscles taut with anticipation. She helped him shed the rest of his clothes, her touch lingering, sending shivers through him.

His young body, lithe and strong, was a beautiful sight. The moonlight filtering through the window cast a soft glow on his skin, highlighting the defined muscles of his torso and arms. Riveria traced the curve of his abdomen, her fingers brushing against his navel, and he let out a soft gasp. She then moved lower, her touch growing bolder, more deliberate. Bell’s breath hitched as her fingers brushed against the growing hardness beneath his shorts. His body tensed, a low groan escaping his lips.

“Riveria-san…” he whispered, his voice strained with desire. Riveria met his gaze, her emerald eyes sparkling with a mixture of tenderness and pure, unadulterated lust. “Shhh,” she murmured, her lips curving into a seductive smile. “Let me take care of you.” She knelt between his legs, her gaze fixed on his throbbing member. It pulsed with life, a testament to the potent desire he felt for her. She reached out, her fingers caressing its length, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. She guided him to her mouth, her lips closing around him with a gentle firmness. Bell cried out, a raw, primal sound, as she began to suckle him, her tongue teasing and swirling, her experienced hands stroking him rhythmically.

Riveria’s senses were overwhelmed by the taste and texture of him. It was a pure, unadulterated essence of youth and desire. She reveled in his pleasure, his gasps and moans filling the quiet room, fueling her own arousal. Her elven body, which had known countless forms of magic and discipline, now experienced a raw, visceral connection that transcended any spell. Bell’s hands found her hair, his fingers tangling in the green strands, pulling her closer, urging her on. He bucked against her mouth, his pleasure building, his body arching as he neared his climax. Riveria increased her pace, her mouth working him with an expert touch, until with a shuddering groan, Bell Cranel spilled his essence into her mouth, a warm, potent wave that she swallowed with a satisfied sigh.

As Bell recovered, panting and trembling, Riveria Ljos Alf wiped her lips with the back of her hand, her emerald eyes shining with a triumphant glow. She saw the awe and wonder in his gaze. “You are… incredible, Riveria-san,” he whispered, his voice still rough with spent passion. Riveria smiled, a slow, knowing smile. She reached for him, her hands now caressing his still-quivering shaft. “And you, my dear Bell,” she purred, her voice a low, seductive rumble, “are just beginning to discover your own power.” She then guided him into her, her body welcoming him with an embrace that was both fierce and tender. Their bodies joined, the friction of their skins a delicious sensation. Riveria felt him push deeper, filling her completely, a satisfying pressure that made her gasp. She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him further in, their mouths finding each other again in a desperate, passionate kiss. Their bodies moved in tandem, a rhythm born of instinct and desire, each thrust deeper than the last. Riveria moaned his name, her elven body trembling with a pleasure she had never known. She felt the familiar tightening deep within her, the sweet, exquisite build-up of her own climax. As Bell Cranel began to fill her with his seed, a wave of warmth spread through her, the undeniable sign of her own pleasure, a final, exquisite creampie that sealed their passionate night together.