Kuro's women

Being the Fair Lady's favorite came with its pros and cons, though most of your comrades only saw the cons. After all, carrying a surveillance item specially made by her to monitor you and having to follow a certain set of rules that the other Harbingers didn't impose would feel suffocating to anyone. Yet, you couldn't help but feel proud of having earned her recognition this way. Perhaps a twisted part of you also craved her attention this way....

That's possibly the only way to describe your current predicament. You had known it was a bad idea to do this, leaving your Cor Ignis behind was undoubtedly one of the worst things you could do. Signora had caught on to it fairly quickly, but thankfully only after you completed the task you had set out for.

"Running somewhere, little mouse?" her voice echoed from around the corner, just before you were about to turn.

"M-Milady, I—"

"Silence."

She cut you off then grabbed your wrist, harshly tugging you away into a secluded alleyway.

"Now, will you explain yourself, or shall we do this the difficult way?" her hand slammed beside you head, pinning you to the wall.

She loomed over you, her expression guarded but her eye searched your face with the thoroughness of an inspection, as though cataloguing every part of you that remained intact.

"I apologize, I can explain...." you murmured.

"Hmph." she scoffed and leaned away, giving you a little space to breathe.

She held up your Cor Ignis in her other hand, the flame inside it pulsing faintly. Before you could say anything, she seized your hand and pressed it into your palm, closing your fist around it.

"I will not tolerate this a second time."

You nodded and safely kept it inside your coat pocket.

"Now then, what was so important for my prized soldier to leave behind the one thing I have forbidden you to remove?" she probed and took a step closer, pressing you against the wall again, "You know you cannot hide anything from me, Y/n."

You pursed your lips, instinctively backing away but there was nowhere to go. She stepped closer again, her body pressing against yours.

"Speak." her hand gripped your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks.

"I-I... I was just buying something...." you managed to say, averting your gaze.

She raised an eyebrow, "And what may it be that you didn't want me to know?"

"A... gift..."

Her eye widened in surprise and she released your jaw but didn't step away, waiting to hear more. You reached into your coat and took out a small box covered in wrapping paper and tied with a red ribbon.

"It's... uh... it's been 4 years since we met, I just wanted to give you something to celebrate that...."

Her composure almost cracked for a second at the revelation, she was ready to hear some flimsy and pathetic excuse but not something so genuine. She gripped your jaw again and tilted your face up, pressing herself completely into you.

"Is that so? I didn't know my subordinate was so... sentimental~" she teased, her lips curling into a smirk.

Your face reddened at that, "It's an important occasion...."

"Perhaps it is." she leaned down, her lips ghosting yours, "But it still means you disobeyed orders."

You blinked once, being caught off guard. She didn't let the thought linger and slammed her lips to yours, engaging in a hurried but no less passionate kiss. She pulled away just as abruptly, her breath ragged while her hands settled on your hips.

"So, punishment first. I need to set an example, don't you agree?~"

"Wait, here?" you whispered, your heart hammering against your ribs. The alleyway was narrow and damp, the stone walls covered in frost. The sudden shift from the tension of a reprimand to the heat of that kiss had left your head spinning, leaving you vulnerable to whatever she had planned.

She didn't reply and instead spun you around, your hands planting flat against the wall as she bent you over. The sudden cold of the stone wall seeped through your clothes, a sharp contrast to the oppressive heat radiating from her body. You let out a small, shaky breath, your palms sliding slightly against the damp masonry as you tried to find your footing. The silence of the alleyway felt heavy, amplifying the sound of your own frantic heartbeat and the rhythmic, deliberate click of her heels as she shifted her weight. She didn't rush; Signora thrived on the anticipation of a slow burn, making sure you felt every second of the vulnerability she had forced upon you.

"Stay still." she commanded, her voice dropping an octave, losing the teasing lilt and replacing it with a sharp, authoritative edge.

The command sent a shiver racing down your spine that had nothing to do with the frost on the walls. You felt her hand slide firmly onto the small of your back, pressing you deeper into the stone, ensuring there was no gap between your body and the wall. Your breath hitched when her hand slid further, squeezing your ass before tugging your trousers down.

You shivered as your skin was exposed to the freezing surroundings but the sensation was immediately replaced by her gloved hand as it smacked your ass. The sound of the impact echoed sharply against the narrow walls of the alley, a sudden, stinging heat that bloomed across your skin. You let out a sharp gasp, your fingers curling instinctively into the rough stone of the wall.

"One for the deceit." she murmured, her voice humming against your ear.

Another smack followed immediately, the force of it causing your hips to jerk forward. The sting was localized and intense, a searing heat that seemed to radiate outward, claiming more territory on your skin with every strike. You squeezed your eyes shut, the cold air of the alleyway biting at your exposed skin while the warmth of her palm provided a punishing, rhythmic contrast.

"Second for abandoning your Cor Ignis."

The third strike landed with a heavy, echoing thud, the impact vibrating through your entire frame. You let out a muffled cry, your forehead pressing against the damp stone as the sting blossomed into a deep, pulsing throb.

"And third…" she paused, her hand hovering just inches above your skin, letting the anticipation build until you were practically shaking, "for thinking that a mere gift could excuse your insolence."

The final blow landed with a level of precision and force that made your legs buckle, though you had nowhere to fall. The sting was absolute, a blinding flash of heat that left your backside tingling and throbbing in a rhythmic, agonizing dance. You clung to the wall for dear life, your knuckles white against the grey stone, as the silence returned to the alleyway, broken only by your own ragged, sobbing breaths. She looked satisfied, caressing your stinging flesh before pulling up your pants back.

"Don't think we are done so soon, my dear~"

She purred and you were spun around once again, this time pushed down to your knees. The rough texture of the alley floor scraped against your knees, the dampness of the stone seeping through your trousers. You looked up at her, your vision slightly blurred from the remnants of tears, only to find her looking down at you with an expression of predatory amusement. Your gaze immediately dropped to her crotch, the fabric of her skirt already straining.

"You seem quite focused on something, little mouse." she smirked, stepping closer.

Her fingers gripped your hair and pulled your face back, "I want your mouth on me, is that clear?"

"Yes, milady." you whimpered, the words barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

She gathered her skirts and freed her throbbing erection in no time, the shaft standing erect against your face. You didn't hesitate, leaning forward to take her into your mouth. The heat of her was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the freezing wind that whipped through the alleyway. You focused entirely on her, your tongue swirling around the head of her shaft, tasting the salt of her skin. Signora let out a low, guttural moan, her grip on your hair tightening as she pushed herself deeper into your mouth, her hips stuttering in a slow, rhythmic cadence. She wasn't just seeking release; she was asserting dominance, ensuring that every gasp you took was filled with her presence.

"Eager, as expected. But you forget…." she pulled you away at once, her cock slipping out with a wet pop, "I dictate the pace."

You nodded, making her hum in approval. She guided your head back in, "Slowly now, savor it. Otherwise I will fuck your pretty face, do not test me."

You obeyed with a desperate kind of focus, your tongue tracing the length of her with a slow, deliberate precision. Every movement was a gamble; too fast and you risked her ire, too slow and you might be seen as lacking in enthusiasm.

"Mmm, just like that…" she moaned, pushing her hips forward, "Take it deep now and hold until I say otherwise."

You obeyed instantly, sliding your lips over the head and swallowing as much of her as your throat would allow. The sensation of her filling you completely was intoxicating, a physical manifestation of the power she held over you. Signora’s breath hitched, her fingers tangling deeper into your hair, grounding you in place as she let out a shaky, stifled sound of pleasure.

"Good girl… you look so pretty full of me~"

She held you there for several long, agonizing seconds, forcing you to maintain the stretch until your eyes watered and your throat pulsed against her. Just as you felt your strength waning, she abruptly pulled back, finally allowing you a moment to rest and breathe. You panted desperately, your throat burning but she didn't let you have a reprieve. Before you could fathom anything, she shoved herself down your throat in one go, her cock sliding to the hilt.

"Did you forget this was a punishment, my dear? Now, relax your jaw."

Signora didn't relent, her hips snapping forward in a series of short, sharp thrusts that drove her deeper, forcing your head back against the cold stone of the alley wall. Each impact sent a jolt through your jaw, and the sheer friction of her skin against your throat made your breath come in ragged, desperate hitches. Every time she slammed home, you felt the air leave your lungs in a stifled, muffled groan, your senses overwhelmed by the scent of her expensive perfume mixing with the raw, salty musk of her arousal. She drove into you with a focused intensity, her hips snapping forward with a precision that left you breathless.

The rhythm became relentless, a punishing cadence that left no room for thought or hesitation. Signora’s grip on your hair tightened, her knuckles white as she steered your head with a clinical, dominating precision. Every thrust was a reminder of her authority, the heavy slide of her length filling every available inch of your throat, forcing your eyes to roll back as you struggled to accommodate her. The sound of the impact— the wet, slapping noise of her sac hitting your chin echoed off the frost-covered walls, marking the time in the only way that mattered.

"You are doing so well… fuck… just like that~"

Her voice was a low, jagged rasp, stripped of its usual poise. She wasn't just seeking a climax; she was claiming every part of you, from the stinging heat on your backside to the desperate, suffocating pressure in your mouth. As she neared the peak, her movements grew frantic, her hips snapping forward with a raw, guttural urgency. She buried herself deep, pinning your head against the stone, her body shuddering with a violence that mirrored the intensity of her desire. With one final, forceful surge, she let out a sharp, breathless cry and came, the heat of her release flooding your throat in thick, pulsing waves.

"Swallow… don't you dare spill a single drop…" she panted.

You swallowed hard, the thick, salt-heavy warmth of her release sliding down your throat as you finally inhaled a desperate, shaking gasp of air. Signora lingered for a moment, grinding against your face, her breathing as ragged as yours. She then slowly withdrew, the wet pop of her exit sounding loud in the narrow space. She didn't immediately step away and stood over you for a moment, watching you recover with an expression of smug satisfaction.

The cold air rushed back in to fill the void she had left, making you shiver violently as you remained on your knees, your jaw aching and your skin still tingling from the earlier discipline. With a slow, deliberate grace, she tucked herself back into the folds of her ornate skirts, smoothing the fabric with a flick of her wrist as if the last several minutes of raw, animalistic intensity had never occurred.

So Odette doesn't have a positive impression of Signora, she kind of hated her up till recently where she started understanding her a bit *after* she died. I don't necessarily blame Odette for that as it says Signora was very strict and harsh as a mentor and Odette also had to balance her dance lessons alongside Fatui training. I'm actually quite glad they kept this characterization of her being a cold and strict teacher and commander, I wasn't a fan of how they softened her in recent iterations with the tea party and other stuff. Odette's voicelines also says Signora was noticeably softer during Sandrone's tea parties— which tbh just feels like a meh way for them to explain such extreme sides of her character but whatever, it's acceptable.

The most interesting part is that Signora gave an object called Cor Ignis to some people, it was basically her liquid fire flame encased in some special type of ice that acted as a safekeeping + surveillance object. Odette says it also helped her recover when she was sick by placing it beside her pillow at night. Basically whenever Signora would sense something amiss through that object, she would immediately appear at that location and intervene. However, Odette says it felt more like a forceful shackle and that many people broke their Cor Ignis when Signora died and they felt like being freed from her shackles. And this Cor Ignis seems to also have some ability to intervene with powers of Death as it apparently helps Traveller recover in the main story (yes, the irony....)

The part that bugged me was that in one place, Sandrone says that Signora often took advice from Arlecchino on how to tend to Odette as she herself wasn't good with children compared to Arlecchino. Now, ofc I understand why Arlecchino was better at childcare and I don't mind Signora being bad at it, I do mind that they specifically made it in reference to Odette because like...Odette is 20 at most while Signora is a 500+ year old woman 😭 she's been through far more things than Arlecchino and many other people, I expect her to be far more mature and be able to deal with any kinds of people and if she does struggle— then I expect her to take advice from Tsaritsa, Pulcinella or Pierro, the people around her own age and the people she has been with longest. Kind of adds on to how perfect they keep making Arlecchino as if she can't be bad in any way, while Signora who clearly is older and much more experienced is also taking advice from her.... Yeah this is probably the only part of the lore I won't sit with.

Other than this, I do like the cruel nature and how many people seemed to dislike her actually. But also the fact that she gave an object to keep an eye on everyone just shows how traumatized she was 😭 she wasn't there when Rostam and others died in Mondstadt so now she wants to be on top of whatever happens with people she cares about and immediately be there, even if it comes across as too restrictive and cruel. There was also one para where Odette says that she was secretly practicing her dance at night once and Signora appeared out of nowhere to watch her and Odette actually *lashed* out at her and told her she doesn't deserve to see her dance before Signora could say anything. This surprised Signora a lot and she just stood there silently for a minute then left without saying anything.... 😭😭 Oh Rosalyne you deserved so much better 😭

Then after all this, what made me angry was that Odette tells Traveller she knew what Signora did abroad so they made the right decision to kill her and she doesn't hold it against them..... like excuse me wtf??? 😭😭 I get that Odette didn't like her but she also said she eventually understood her and why she was that way and come on you she literally agrees to outright killing her?? And this is when Traveller is still friends with other Harbingers like??? I'm so fcking confused and just appalled at this 😭 why would they even make all this connection between her and Odette it's so random and unnecessary 😞

Bai Yi had this look on her face, the kind that told you she had some devious idea in her head. Only that you weren't sure if it was another new scheme she thought of for Whitestone Industries or something else….

Before you knew it, she was already straddling you on your motorbike, her arms gripping your shoulders as she lazily rocked back n forth on your lap.

"Mmm, you did so well in that race, my darling. I think you deserve a reward~" she winked, grinding harder against your crotch.

"B-Bai Yi… at least remove my helme—"

"No, I have an idea. I want you to keep it on."

She leaned back and undid your belt buckle, followed by unzipping your pants and freeing your hardening shaft. She pumped it in her hand a few times while pulling down her own tights and underwear.

"I heard some of our buddies talking about this, doing it this way with their partners~" she mused, positioning herself on your erect length.

"What way are you talking about…?" you gripped her hips, preparing yourself.

She merely chuckled then lowered herself, taking you inside in one smooth motion.

"Don't move too much~" she whispered, though she was the one commanding the rhythm.

Bai Yi leaned back, her spine arching into a graceful curve that stretched the fabric of her clothes tight across her chest. She didn't look at your face, she couldn't due to the opaque barrier of the helmet but instead, she tilted her head forward, staring intently into the polished, mirrored surface of your visor. The reflection was distorted by the curvature of the glass, turning her expression into something surreal and predatory.

She watched herself sink onto you, the visual feedback of her own pleasure amplifying the sensation. There was something intoxicating about the voyeurism of it; she was the spectator and the performer all at once, watching the way her hips rolled and the way her eyes glazed over with every wet, sliding thrust. She let out a soft, shuddering breath, her gaze locked onto her own shimmering image, fascinated by the sight of her own surrender.

The bike groaned under the shifting weight, the kickstand digging deep into the asphalt of the secluded lookout. Every time she rose and fell, the suspension gave a rhythmic, metallic creak that timed perfectly with the slapping of skin. You could feel the heat radiating off her, the friction of her thighs gripping your waist, and the desperate, tight clench of her internals as she chased a peak she could actually see happening in the reflection.

She began to move faster, her breath hitching into small, jagged gasps. The distance between your visor and her face was mere inches, and as she surged forward, the tip of her nose almost brushed the plastic. She was mesmerized by the duality of the moment— the raw, physical intensity of the act contrasted with the cold, clinical stillness of the mirror. She looked like a goddess caught in a glass trap, her own reflection mocking her with a look of sheer, unadulterated want.

"Mmmh—! This is… aah… quite fun… we should do it like this more~" she moaned, riding you harder and faster.

She shifted her weight, leaning back further to change the angle of entry, and for a moment, the world narrowed down to the point of contact and the image in the visor. She watched her own breasts bounce with the force of her exertion, the way her lips parted in a silent scream of pleasure. The visual loop was hypnotic, the more she saw herself unraveling in the reflection, the more she felt herself slipping. Her eyes drifted shut for a second, then snapped open, refocusing on the shimmering image of her own flushed cheeks and dilated pupils.

"Just like that…. fuck yes….!" she whispered, though the command was barely audible over the sudden, frantic drumming of her heart.

The rhythmic creak of the bike's suspension had shifted from a slow groan to a rapid, metallic chatter, the machine vibrating beneath her as if it were trying to keep up with her frantic energy. She was no longer just riding, she was hunting for the peak, her movements becoming jagged and desperate. You reached down to grab her ass and squeeze it while balancing the bike better with your legs, ensuring she had an uninterrupted experience as she chased her release. Looking at her this way through your helmet visor was a different experience you didn't expect to find likable, but it enhanced each of your senses and made you buck your hips with her.

"Keep looking… yes…!~" she gasped, her voice dropping an octave into a ragged, needy tone.

She arched her back once more, her fingers digging into your shoulders with a strength that threatened to bruise. In the reflection, her eyes were wide, flickering with a frantic intensity as she watched the image of herself shatter into a dozen shimmering fragments whenever she jolted too hard. The curvature of the visor played tricks with the perspective, making it feel as though she were staring directly into her own soul, and the visual feedback loop was pushing her toward a breaking point.

The friction reached a fever pitch, a searing heat that seemed to radiate from the point where your bodies fused. Bai Yi’s movements became erratic, her hips stuttering in a series of short, violent spasms. In the mirrored surface of the visor, her reflection was no longer a poised goddess, but a woman completely undone, her face twisted in a mask of desperate, raw need. She let out a high, keening sound like a sharp, melodic cry that echoed off the surrounding silence of the lookout as the first wave of her climax crashed through her.

Her internals clamped down on you with an intensity that felt like a vice, squeezing you in rhythmic, pulsing thros that threatened to drag you over the edge prematurely. She let out a choked gasp, her forehead finally dropping to lean against the cool plastic of the helmet, though her eyes remained wide open, staring at the fragmented image of her own ecstasy. She watched her own pupils blow wide, the reflection capturing the exact moment the world vanished for her, leaving only the white-hot sensation of her release.