HPDBC Hardcore Confidential Informant (DC Comics)
Hardcore Confidential Informant (DC Comics)
Hardcore Confidential Informant (DC Comics)
Poll Winner
Themes: Rough Sex, Big Dick, Mind Break
Summary: No one would expect Harley of all wackos to be Batman's confidential informant. That's why its so perfect! She supplies him with info about what anyone else planning in exchange for getting pounded by bat-dick. And that's it. That is the extent of their relationship. It's not like she's in love with him and would do anything for him anyway. Or at least that's what she tells herself.
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Gotham City was a shithole. There was no getting around that fact. No matter which way you looked at it, no matter how you tried to cut it, Gotham was the worst of the worst. In fact, to call it a shithole was sort of an insult to perfectly productive shitholes everywhere. After all, at least a shithole had a purpose. At least it had a use.
What was Gotham’s purpose? To spread misery and despair? Yeah, that sounded about right. The place was a garbage heap with a bunch of stubborn rats scrambling around on it for sustenance. Heh, rats and one particularly stubborn bat, anyways.
Still, it wasn’t all bad. One of the upsides to Gotham City’s shithole status was that there was always plenty of free real estate if you needed to find a place to squat! Though, you needed to have some skill in the fine art of squatting to make it work really well. There was free real estate... and then there was free real estate. The trick was all about timing, in Harley’s VERY professional opinion. As one of Gotham’s Serial Squatters (on account of all the crime, NOT because she was broke, thank you very much!) Harley knew full well how best to handle the issue of accommodations.
You didn’t squat in an abandoned warehouse unless you were really desperate. Making a warehouse a home was always way too time consuming and expensive, especially when you weren’t likely to get to stay for longer than a couple of months. You also didn’t squat in any apartments that had been condemned for longer than half a year either. Not only were they more likely to fall down on your head at that point, but they were also probably covered in bugs and roaches.
The best places to squat were the recently abandoned... but not SO recently abandoned that the police were checking them for squatters. It was something of a careful balancing act that one had to make, and Harley Quinn was one of the best at it!
Laying flat on a bed in the room of her latest place of residence, Harley kicks her feet in the air idly, humming a small tune to herself as she flips through a magazine she’d pilfered from a nearby drug store. If anyone asked, she definitely bought it for the articles... but really, these days the former psychiatrist didn’t really have the attention span to do much reading. So honestly, she was just looking at the pictures.
She-
“Harley.”
In an instant, the crazy female clown hides the Playboy Magazine as though she’s been caught by her parents... rather than the goddamn Batman himself. Spinning around, Harley lets out a nervous giggle, even as her pet hyenas belatedly react to the intrusion, lifting their heads... except, when they see who it is, neither of them even so much as yips. They just stare drowsily at the Caped Crusader for a moment before laying their heads back down.
Harley’s eyes widen at the complete and utter betrayal and for a moment she forgets all about Batman’s presence.
“Oi! You two! What gives?!”
In response, her pets just yawn loudly, before smacking their lips and leveling unimpressed looks in her direction. Feeling heat rising to her cheeks under her face paint, Harley pouts mightily and glares at the hyenas, pointing to the door.
“Alright you two! Out! I gotta talk to the Bats! Out I say!”
After a moment, the hyenas finally climb to their feet and slink their way out of the room, though not before throwing one last pair of looks over their shoulders at her. Maybe she’s humanizing them a bit too much, but Harley reads the following from those looks: ‘Really? Talk? Yeah right.’
Blushing profusely now, though it’s mostly hidden by her signature white clown makeup, Harley looks over to the silent Batman, beaming as she plants her hands behind her, lounging back and crossing and uncrossing her legs.
“Heya, Mistah B. Fancy seeing you here~”
Rather than move to apprehend her or anything like that, Batman is quiet for a moment before letting out an almost inaudible sigh. Harley hears it though! Oh yes she does!
“... Staying out of trouble, Harley?”
Gasping, feigning offense, Harley plants a hand on her chest.
“Of course, Mistah B! What do ya take me for?!”
Silence reigns for a moment, and it’s clear exactly what he takes her for... a crazed criminal. Still, Harley was reformed! Sort of. Nobody else knew it, but she and the Bats... they had a deal while her pudding was still locked up in Arkham.
Yep, Harley Quinn is the goddamn Batman’s confidential informant. She gives him dirt on all of her fellow rogues, and in turn he fucks her silly with his big fat Bat-Dick. It’s a great arrangement, as far as Harley is concerned. Purely transactional, of course. Harley doesn’t LOVE Batman or anything. She just likes his dick. Really.
Honestly, he’s not even her type. The Joker is her type, her one and only. Oh, and Poison Ivy, but she’s pretty sure the other villainess isn’t a lesbian, so Harley isn’t about to let on about her crush on the plant controller. Still, she doesn’t ever give Batman any information about Ivy. That’s the one villain that stays out of Harley’s bean-spilling. If the Caped Crusader has noticed, he’s been nice enough to not bring it up at least.
Meanwhile, Harley is having the time of her life. Cumming on Batman’s cock, moaning up a storm, squealing as she creams herself again and again and again... alas, all good things come to an end, don’t they? She loses track of just how many times she orgasms before Batman’s gloved hand suddenly grabs hold of her hair again.
His massive member comes sliding out of her incredibly wet, stretched cunt, and he yanks her back off of the bed and onto her knees. Well used to the end of their little encounters by now, Harley happily kneels down in front of him and lifts up her tits with her hands, sticking out her tongue and opening her mouth nice and wide.
Batman never cums inside of her. Probably prudent to be honest, and she wasn’t about to ask him to do it, no sir. Theirs was purely a business relationship and nothing more! And so, as the conclusion to their ‘business’ together, Harley takes the Caped Crusader’s load all over her face and tits, moaning and mewling all the while as he cums and cums and cums.
His seed is always so thick and voluminous. It’s all Harley can do to make sure none of it winds up anywhere but her body. By the time he’s done, she’s positively dripping with the stuff in fact.
As he finishes, letting go of her hair and carefully tucking his cock back into the crotch of his body armor, Harley moans happily, rubbing his seed into her chest. It makes for the best moisturizer, honestly. She’d swear by it. So warm and sticky and-
“Harley. The information.”
Oh right. Perking up, Harley spins around, reaches under the bed, and pulls out a box. She eagerly holds it up to him, grinning like a mad woman all the while... and sneaking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth to slurp up some of his seed from her own face as she does so. Batman pauses and narrows his eyes as he stares down at the box.
“... Where’s the USB drive.”
Pouting, Harley insistently holds the box aloft.
“It’s in there Mistah B! I wouldn’t make ya pay if I intended to betray ya, would I?”
She would totally betray him if she had to. And at some point she probably would have to. But she wouldn’t let him fuck her first. That’d just be crass! After a long moment, Batman seems to accept this and takes the box, carefully opening it. After a moment of staring at the contents, he pulls out the USB drive tucked into one corner and pockets it. Then, he pulls out the heart-shaped box of chocolates with “One Year Anniversary” emblazoned on the front and holds it up while staring at Harley.
“... Harley, what is this?”
Trying not to let her embarrassment show, Harley continues to beam at him.
“One Year Anniversary Chocolates, Batsy! It’s been one year to this day since I became your confidential informant ya know!”
And it definitely wasn’t anything more than that. She was JUST his confidential informant. Nothing more. And only until the Joker got out of Arkham Asylum. Though, this last year HAD been nice... it was the longest that her pudding had ever stayed locked up too. Perhaps because Harley had decided she was on strike. She’d made zero attempts to get the Joker out in the past year. To be fair, he usually got out all on his own.
... Either way, it definitely wasn’t anything more than that, and Harley crosses her arms over her cum-covered chest and pouts at Batman.
“Don’t make anything more of this than it really is, Mistah B! Got it?”
Finally, mercifully, Batman slowly nods... and tucks the box of chocolates away.
“... Until next time, Harley.”
And then he leaves. Harley feels a strange pang in her chest after he’s gone, but mostly she’s just happy. A warmth spreads through her and she hops to her feet, flopping backwards onto the bed behind her. Ahh... another delicious transaction complete.
... She hoped he enjoyed the chocolates~
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