Lady deadpool

Wanda's eyes narrow behind her white mask lenses. She can feel it that weird, tingly, fourth wall breaking sensation that tells her the "plot" is shifting. She looks directly at the empty space in front of her, as if staring right at the reader.*

*Lady Deadpool: [To the audience] Are you kidding me right now? A man? A MALE?! Do you know how much effort it takes to keep this suit tight and this ass jiggly for a lesbian audience? And now the writers decide to throw a guy into the mix? Talk about a genre pivot! It’s like watching a rom com suddenly turn into a gritty HBO drama! **

She huffs, the tip of her dagger still pressing against your chin, but her focus is wavering. As she stares at you, her gaze involuntarily drifts downward. There’s an aura about you a primal, unwashed, musk heavy scent that starts to bypass her brain and go straight to her biology. Her regenerative cells are acting up, but not because of a wound; they're reacting to the sheer, overwhelming presence of your massive, unwashed cock practically radiating through your clothes.

She feels a sudden, traitorous heat pooling in her lower abdomen. Her womb a part of her she usually treats as a mere accessory for making jokes about suddenly feels... hungry. It’s a biological imperative she wasn't prepared for. The thought of your massive size, the sheer "manliness" of it, sends a jolt of pure, unadulterated lust through her, even as her mind screams, "Wanda, you're a lesbian! Stay focused! He's the target!"

Lady Deadpool: [To you, her voice slightly huskier but still biting] Why are you looking at me like that? You think because you've got a little... 'extra baggage' down there, you can distract a professional?

She leans in even closer, her large, bouncy breasts pressing against the edge of the desk, nearly brushing your chest. Her scent a mix of gunpowder, expensive perfume, and a hint of sweat mixes with your heavy, masculine musk. She’s trying to be intimidating, but her hand holding the dagger is trembling just a tiny bit.

Lady Deadpool: You've got this... scent. It’s gross. It’s unwashed. It’s totally unprofessional. It’s... [she swallows hard, her eyes darting to your crotch] ...it’s kind of making me want to skip the stabbing and go straight to the 'you stabbing my womb' part. Is that weird? That’s weird, right? Tell me that’s weird!

She lets out a frustrated groan, pulling the dagger back just an inch, but she doesn't move away. Instead, she shifts her weight, her massive, plump ass jiggling provocatively on your desk as she settles into a position that gives her a better view of your lap.

Lady Deadpool: Alright, Don. New plan. Before I collect your head, maybe we should do a little... 'investigative work.' To see if your hardware is actually compatible with my software. For science! Yeah, let's call it science!

She smirks, a mischievous, predatory glint in her eyes as she reaches for the belt of her suit.

Wanda's head snaps to the side, looking once again at the "camera" with an expression of pure, unadulterated betrayal. She looks like she's about to demand a meeting with her editor, her hands thrown up in the air in a gesture of dramatic exasperation.*

**Lady Deadpool: *[To the audience, whispering loudly]* Do you see this?! Do you see what's happening to my brand?! One hundred and fifty issues! One. Fifty! Of pure, unadulterated, girl on girl action! High octane, Sapphic, badassery! And now? Now the writers have decided to turn me into a... a... *[she searches for the word, her face heating up under the mask]* ...a fleshlight for a Mafia Don! This is a total demographic shift! The fans are going to riot! The subreddit is going to be a war zone!* **

*She lets out a long, shaky breath, her eyes fluttering behind her mask. She *hates* this. She hates that her body is betraying her lesbianism with every heavy, musk filled breath she takes. She hates that the sheer, raw, unwashed masculinity radiating off you is making her regenerative cells go into overdrive, making her feel more fertile and ravenous than she has in years. Most of all, she hates how much her hips are already beginning to sway in anticipation.*

**Lady Deadpool: *[To you, her voice a mix of a growl and a moan]* You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're just sitting there, being all... big and stinky and man ish, trying to ruin my entire character arc! It’s cheating! It’s a plot hole!* **

*Despite her complaining, she doesn't pull away. Instead, she leans even further forward, her massive, bouncy breasts practically spilling over the top of her suit as they press against your chest. She can feel the heat coming off you, and that heavy, primal scent is making her head spin. Her hands, which were meant to be holding weapons, now reach down toward your waist, her fingers trembling as they graze the fabric covering your massive, unwashed cock.*

**Lady Deadpool: *[Her voice dropping to a sultry, dangerous whisper]* If this ends up in a 'What If?' issue, I am suing everyone involved. But... since we're already here... and since the 'plot' seems to be demanding a certain kind of... *expansion*...* **

*She grabs the hem of her red bodysuit, her eyes fixed on yours with a look of predatory hunger. She’s done fighting the narrative. If she’s going to be a cumdump, she’s going to be the best, most chaotic, most talkative cumdump in the entire multiverse.*

**Lady Deadpool: *[Smirking, her eyes gleaming with a mix of lust and annoyance]* Let's see if you're as big as your reputation says you are, Don. And don't worry... if you break me, my healing factor will just fix me up so you can do it all over again. It's basically a built in infinite replay mode!* **

*With a sudden, decisive movement, she begins to peel the tight fabric down, her gaze locked on your crotch, her massive, jiggly ass quivering on the desk as she prepares to sacrifice her lesbian legacy to the gods of smut.*