CW: Spy! Reader, severe edging, sex during interrogation, fingering, pussy slapping, coercion, lowkey dubious content, stockholm syndrome kinda, might be ooc for Hilda, Hilda is a bit sadistic, talks of potential suicide, torture and death but nothing happens
Been thinking about Hilda with a Spy! Reader she captured from the opposite side. You’ve been kept in Hilda’s personal interrogation room for a day now, expecting to be tortured for the information you have, but you’re prepared not to budge. You’d rather die than reveal what your core mission is, your loyalty unwavering to your side as you have hidden a perfectly good insta-kill pill in your pocket. You’d bite on it as soon as the interrogation starts getting too hard to handle, giving you a quick and painless death to save you from the torture.
It is only when Hilda herself, tall and composed steps into the room, that you look up. You don’t flinch, meeting her gaze and ready to bite the pill if needed. You expect her to grab any of the weapons on the wall, tilting your head in curiosity as to what she would pick. But Hilda does something surprising. She slowly pulls her gloves off her fingers, flexing them in front of you before unbuttoning her shirt.
“(Reader), I’ve heard of you. You’re rather infamous in our line of work.”
You watch in silence as clothes drop to the tiled floor. Though you were unfazed at the sight of blood, needles, bodies, etc. a stripping woman was something that put a lump in your throat.
“Your regenerative abilities as a Sinner imply physical torture is pointless, and your mental resolve is practically unshakable.”
Slipping out of her shirt, Hilda’s eyes catch yours, narrowing. There is the smallest lit of a grin when she catches you staring at her bra. So the infamous Spy did have a weakness after all; pretty woman was it?
“I wonder…how long you would last before this would become too much.”
She struts closer to you and straddles your hips, calm and composed like always, but it seemed Hilda was a little curious. Her hand trails down to the waistband of your bottoms, tilting your chin up with the other and pulling you in for a kiss. You could’ve kneed her, bit her tongue when she slid it inside, but you didn’t. A proper Spy would, but every Spy had their weakness. Yours just happened to have been Hilda.
You were curious enough to see what Hilda would do, and that curiosity would lead to your demise as soon as Hilda toyed with your clit. Hilda strangely talented at this, at fingering I mean. Rather than screams of agony, moans and small gasps would leave your mouth as she had you eating out of the palm of her hand. You slobbered over her mouth just as messily as you did over her fingers. A wet, humiliatingly sticky mess you were reduced to, as Hilda fingered you right there on the interrogation chair.
“I don’t usually resort to these methods, but…” she pulls away, a nasty string of saliva connecting your tongues together. “Special spies call for special tactics.”
She plunges her long, lithe fingers deeper into your cunt, making you gasp. It was delightfully amusing for the cryptologist, biting her lip in endearment. This was the hard-to-crack Spy from the other side? She was already cracking you without much effort.
Your walls pulse, tightening around Hilda’s hand as she holds you still. You’re about to cum, she can feel it. However, instead of letting it gush like the blood that once stained this room, she suddenly retreats her hand so fast it makes you cry.
“Question one.”
Ah fuck. So this was your torture wasn’t it? The emptiness in your poor pussy just aching to be filled once again. You look up at Hilda with a look that says “Fuck you,” but Hilda simply picks up a clipboard and continues with her interrogation, licking her finger (yes, the one still covered in your slick) to turn the page.
“Answer truthfully, and maybe I’ll think about letting you release.”
You shake your head, too stubborn to give in. Hilda doesn’t bat an eye.
“Your loss.”
The next several hours are followed by Hilda painfully edging you on. How she always manages to calculate seconds before you orgasm is beyond you, but it felt like pure torture having her pull out those sweet, slender fingers every time you were close. You weren’t sure if you were seeing things in your desperation to cum, but you could’ve sworn you saw a sadistic glint in Hilda’s eyes.
“Question one.”
It’s been hours and you’re still on this, body heaving with sweat and pussy all raw and needy for Hilda. At this point, you think you’ve been conditioned to crave Hilda at this point, because any chance to please yourself by rubbing your thighs is pitiful compared to her fingers.
“You look terrible.” Hilda comments, grabbing your cheek and lightly squishing them. “The faster we get through this, the closer you finish.”
“…No.”
Hilda lets out a sigh of annoyance, and then she does something that has you squirming.
Her hand suddenly smacks your cunt, causing you to jolt and whine in your seat. Luckily the restraints keep you somewhat still, but that burning slap had you dripping all over the chair. Hilda watches amusedly as you tremble under the sting, waving off her hand.
“Question one,” she tries again, and at this point your resolve was crumbling. You needed to cum so bad, and Hilda’s sharp smacks felt too, too good. When you are silent for too long, Hilda responds with another swirl of her fingers around your clit, and another smack.
“Speak up.”
And at that point, you spill completely. Each answer Hilda gets out of you is met with her fingers plunging back in you and staying there. You feel like a disobedient dog getting rewarded for good behavior, the answers spewing faster as she thrusts deeper and harder to encourage you.
“And is that all?”
“A-And…And…”
There are tears in your eyes as Hilda leans down to kiss your neck, her teeth lightly grazing the skin and making you shiver. She slaps her fingers forward in another sharp thrust, and that finally pushes you over the edge.
The cry you let out from your orgasm holds the final answer Hilda has been looking for, and it’s accompanied by a lewd whine. Hilda’s smile finally looks genuine, and she pulls her fingers out with a satisfied shlick.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
She gets off your lap and wipes her fingers clean with a napkin. You groan and slump over in your seat, knowing you’d be killed once you go back to your side for spilling the beans. You avoid your captor’s gaze, Hilda noticing and becoming slightly intrigued.
“Your companions will slaughter you at the doorstep,” she comments bluntly, before turning over to cup your cheek. “Why don’t you stay here a bit…longer?”
Body too tired to fight, Hilda unlocks your restraints and suddenly picks you up. You had expected to stay down there in that dingy little interrogation room, but Hilda carries you to what looks like a cozy bedroom before you pass out. You aren’t sure what will become of you, your occupation as a Spy is surely finished after this event, but perhaps that isn’t so bad…
