Life's little bit of Madness~ (Wilford x Criminal Reader Female)

Day Two

I am woken up earlier then usual, as I'm lifted roughly off my bed."Hey, back the fuck off." I snap, and Victor let me go.

I glare at him, him having brown hair and blue eyes, giving an explanation of what he looks like. "We've gotta head to the interview (Y/N)."

"Fuck the interview--" I am about to move back onto bed, until he grabs my wrist and handcuffs my hands together. "You fucking cunt."I say, looking at him with one of my darkest gazes.

"C'mon." Victor grabs the cuffs and pulls me by those, out of the cell room, a couple other officers waiting to follow me out the door and to the car.

(SKEP)

We enter this big building, looking around their are people fixing up the cameras, the lights, everything's being put together as I hear one singular man yelling oddly.

"I said VODKA! Don't tell me what I can and can't have!"

I'm taken over to the yelling, I myself am interested, as I see a black haired man, brown eyes, and a pink fluffy mustache under his nose. He wears a yellow buttoned up shirt, red but turned to pink by time; suspenders, and brown pants. So far he seems like a total fuckin' wimp with the way he looks, until he starts waving a pistol at one of his workers.

"Wilford Warfstache knows what's best, and what's better then you're damned water is vodka. And so, that's what I want!" He demands, and the worker is immediately taken back.

"Y-Yes sir." He says, before turning around and walking away quickly. 

Wilford looks over, noticing I was staring at him, and a smile grows onto his face, it seems like it's naturally devilish. He walks over, putting his gun back as he stands uncomfortably close to me, not caring about my personal space. I take a step back a bit, frowning at him.

"Back off, I like my fuckin' space."

"Oh, we gotta feisty one!" Wilford exclaims. "You can uncuff her."

The officers exchange glances, before looking at him. "Sir, we can't--"

"What's life without a little bit of madness? Uncuff her will you." Wilford waves his hands at them, and they stare. 

"I mean, it'd be pretty shocking to see an uncuffed murderer on TV. It could help him." I turn around looking at them with a smirk, and Victor gives me a growling frown.

He reaches the key over, and undoes my cuffs, and they fall to the ground. I feel my wrists, turning back forward as I look up at Will, who tilts his head a little. At this point, I can't help but notice how much he looks... Good I guess? I don't want to admit to handsome.. 

"Now, isn't that better? Follow me, (Y/N)." Wil says, turning around and walking forward. 

I follow him of course, the officers following close behind me, and I walk over to a stage, with a couple chairs across from eachother. We walk over, Wilford sitting in one as he motions to the other one.

"Take a seat." He says, and so I do.

I sit down into the seat, and I look around a bit at everyone. I remember if I wasn't caught, I wouldn't be here, and I would be anywhere else right now, so I simply frown.

"Get off the stage, no one wants to see your faces in my TV show." Wilford hisses at the police, and a couple of them leave, and Victor leans down.

"You try anything--"

"I won't, trust me." I say, waving at his face. "Now go, you heard the man. You're to ugly to be up here." I say, and Victor frowns, then leaving off the stage.

"We're about to air Will." A brown haired girl, with brown eyes and glasses says.

"Thank you Kathryn. Be on your way." Wilford says kindly, then looking back at me as I look at him. "She's a kind gal unless you step out of line." Wilford comments.

"Whatever you say." I say, sitting up in the seat I sit in. 

It feels great to not be cuffed, and outside the prison. I'm gonna get a taste of that soon after tonight.

"In three, two, one.."

Wilford looks at the camera that is zoomed in pretty far towards his face. "Hello ladies and gentlemen and of course all other configurations of beings, and today we are here with (Y/N), The mass serial killer of Los Angeles--"

"I'm not a MASS serial killer, don't give me that good of a name Wil." The camera zooms out to see me who is talking, Wil of course isn't pleased. "I've only killed up to thirty four people, Stolen from six banks, and sold drugs to around twenty people. I'm not quite that close to mass, so give me a name that suits something calmer."

There's a pause. "...I like you, the way on how you fix my words." Wilford says, locking his fingers together as he crosses his legs. "But for one thing, Wilford doesn't take SHIT, from anyone. Especially not you.." A dark tone grows in his voice. 

He's about to speak up once again, before..

"Well, You like the way I fix your words, therefore I'm gonna tell you your jaw unhinges like a fuckin' snake everytime you speak, So I'd get that checked out." I nod, and he frowns at me.

"Shush. This is my talk show you don't speak when I do--"

"YOu dON't sPEak WHen I Do." I mock him, and I hear a few people laughing behind the camera, before Wilford pulls out a knife, and points the tip of the blade to my throat.

Now for a fact, I know those weren't edits.