Well hello there! Thanks a bunch for reading. This is mostly me being bored and dabbling with writing, so please mind the typos, rushed writing and OOCness. Please review, follow, and favorite. Enjoy!

!Warning!

Pretty Little Head contains graphic sexual content, drug use, non-consensual sex, alcohol use, intense scenes of violence and murder, mentions of self harm, and strong language. If any of these things oppose you or trigger you than do not read!

People have never been my strong suit.

Most of the time having any form of interaction with one of those peasants makes me want to slit my wrists but NO, I have to be polite. It's utter bullshit in my opinion, but whatever. Despite my not having friends and little to no family who can put up with me I get through life fine.

That was up until that dumb bastard showed up.

Now, to be honest I'm pretty average. About 5'3, maybe 190 pounds. I have short brown hair and tan skin. I live with my grandfather and twin brother and I work at the 7/11 down the street. But that job…

I can't coherently find the proper words to explain to you how much I hate that job. It makes me want to shave my eyebrows off. Somebody once tried to buy me. Not fucking kidding. Some weird French sewage-drinker came over to me, winked, and asked me "How much?"

I told him to ask my mother and he left.

But my family needs the job so until I turn 18 I'm stuck with it. Until seven months ago when we got a new manager. And everything just went downhill from there.

His name is Antonio. No, I don't know his last name and I really don't WANT to know his last name. He's a Spanish tomato licking whore-bag and he's making my life a living hell. He's less than average, unlike me.

He has a dark mess of brown curls on his head, and his piercing green eyes dance with light when I look at him. He's almost an entire foot taller than me, which makes him oddly menacing. A thick accent drips from his voice when he talks, and when he talks to me he doesn't call me by my name. It's always chica, or más querido, or some other bullshit Spanish pet name.

He likes to think he's charming or funny but I see right through all that. He just wants to mess with us. I barely get work done with him around, but that's the card I've been dealt and I have to hold on just a little longer.

"Mi Corazòn!" Antonio yelled with a grin when I walked in. I scoffed and kept walking to the employee lounge. "Awe, you're very linda today Lovino~!" My co-workers chuckled as I slammed into the locker room with Antonio in hot pursuit, and I shot them an angry glance to shut them up.

"Are you okay Lovi? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" He asked me with his head tilted and lips pursed in curiosity.

"I was fine until you started talking, zucchero." I spat the last word in Italian, just to confuse him. Antonio groaned and walked out, slammed the door, and cursed in various and unknown languages. I cackled to myself, feeling accomplished for making him mad. My locker was right in front of me so I walked forward and unlocked it. Inside sat only three things. My uniform. A picture of Nonno and brother Feliciano. And a loaded gun, just in case.

The gun wasn't allowed in here. In fact, me even owning a gun is illegal to the nines. But there's been too many robberies at town 7/11's recently for me to exactly feel safe.

I put on my uniform and quickly shut my locker when I heard Antonio calling me. "Oh, mi corazòn Italiano, your shift started dos minutes ago! We need you at register one!" My eyes rolled without me realizing and in retaliation I shouted "Die, tomato bastard!" But he simply laughed heartily.

My shift was uneventful. A few kids were stoned and bought our entire stock of brownies, which was a pain in the ass to bag, but other than that it was the usual eight o'clock business at 7/11.

Antonio sang loudly in his office as I went to the break room for a smoke before my next shift in half an hour. The room was empty, so I lit up my Marlboro cigarette and inhaled. I looked around the room and noticed the announcement board had a new paper on it. My face went white and the world froze when I read today's news.

**ATTENTION!**

ROUTINE YEARLY LOCKER CHECKS AT NINE A.M.

MAKE SURE YOU HIDE YOUR DRUGS

-ANTONIO, YOUR BOSS

**MEMO OVER**

I had a loaded, functioning Glock in my locker. And Antonio was about to find it. My entire body shuddered and I threw my smoke on the ground, muttering curses as I put it out with my boot.

"OKAY KIDS, IT'S LOCKER TIME."

I felt cold. Antonio saw me as he swung the door open to the break room, and his face lit up. "Ciao, Mr. Vargas! I'll check your locker first, seeing as you're better than all of us and would have the sense not to mess things up!" He walked to my locker and began to twist the lock.

"Antonio, listen to me." I said firmly, my voice cracking.

He turned around, his face concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Don't look in my locker. I'm begging you."

His face turned from joy to alarm in seconds. "What's in there, Lovino." He said, his tone deadly serious. This sent shivers down my spine.

"I can't tell you. Please, please, oh my god, please don't look, I'm sorry…" I sobbed and tears started falling. All Antonio did was turn back around and open my locker.

He looked in there. At my gun and my picture.

"Oh, Lovino… Don't you worry your pretty little head. I won't say anything. But promise me."

"Promise you what?" I was choked with tears.

"That you'll talk with me in my office after work today." He said this roughly, slammed my locker shut, and strutted out of the room.

I screamed quietly.

The day seemed to go on forever. He was going to rape me. Or fire me. Of have me arrested. And most likely all three.

But finally the last customer left at 9:00 p.m. and my final shift ended. I felt myself begin hyperventilating, and the few employee still here gave me worried glances. The co-manager Ludwig even asked me if I was okay and I managed a weak nod.

The sky slowly turned from pink into a dark violet and the last of the workers left.

I stood up from my spot in the break room and began the slow walk of terror to Antonio's office. He had my gun. Maybe he was going to kill me. That would be fine. I don't know anybody who would care or miss me, so it was cool. After what felt like an eternity, I finally reached his office.

I tentatively knocked the door, shaking in my boots as I did it. "Come in, chica." Antonio called, and as I twisted the doorknob he grabbed my gun off his desk and pointed it at me.

"FUCK, THAT'S A LOADED GLOCK! BE CAREFUL!" I cried, throwing my hands in the air in surrender. He laughed and swung his feet over his desk. He brought the gun to his face and opened his mouth slightly. "Sit down, Mr. Vargas."

I did as I was told. It was easier that way.

"You can obviously see the problem with this, Lovino." He started, opening his mouth wider and bringing the Glock closer to it. I inhaled sharply as he brought the gun to his lips and kissed the barrel. He pressed his tongue to the tip of the gun and licked from there to the handle. The lighting in the room was dim, and the windows were all drawn shut. Antonios dress shirt sleeves rustled as he moved the gun around in his mouth, and I felt my face start to flush.

"I could have you arrested, Lovino."

"But you won't."

"How are you so sure?" He pulls the gun out of his mouth, a bit of saliva hanging between his lips and the firearm.

I let out a shaky breath.

"You love me, Antonio."

He simply laughed at this, his green eyes beaming at me. "Ah, you can see right through me amado. Even though I love you, I still have the best interests of my business in mind."

I snorted when he said that the 7/11 was HIS business. "But sir, you're merely a raggazo. You know nothing about me except that I think you're a fucking bastard and I work at some shitty Virginia gas station. You can't love me."

"If I don't love you than I can just turn you in for illegal possession of a firearm."

"Anto-"

"No! We're past you begging. I'm calling the police, I'm an idiot for thinking you'd listen to me."

"Oh my god please don't call the police." My throat felt dry as I pleased with him once more, just to have him roll up his sleeves and rest his elbows on the table. He leaned down, groaned and pressed his face into his hands.

He cursed in Spanish, looked at, me and said the last thing I expected him to say to me.

"I need you to smuggle heroin, cocaine, sleeping pills and marijuana. If you do that, then I won't take action about the gun."

My head nodded.

"First. Lovi, you need to listen to me."

"What is it."

"I won't let anybody touch you. No matter what. Only I will touch you. And promise me?"

"What is it?"

"That no matter what, you'll always follow my instructions. Please."

"I promise."

"Good." He stood slowly, very solemnly leaned over the desk, took my face in his hands and softly kissed my forehead.

He walked out of the room and said just one word:

"Beautiful."

I wanted to pretend that nothing had happened. But I showed up to work the next morning to see the building closed, saying there was a shipping accident that affected the amount of plastic bags and they couldn't open the store today.

I knew this was bullshit because Antonio was sitting on the trashcan, wearing all black from head to toe. I rolled my eyes at him and took a step forward, willing myself not to punch him. Antonio's face lit up like a bulb when he saw me and he gracefully jumped from his seat on the grimy old wastebin.

"Hola, mi corazòn Italiano! Que pasa?" He rattled, and I simply shrugged.

"Well, I have to talk to you today, and I also agreed to something super illegal. So I'm having a great day, you fucking whore."

He gave me a look. It wasn't of anger or contempt. Something else. He brushed this off with a laugh and he started to walk away from the gas station, his olive cheeks a little darker with a slight blush.

"Where are we going?" I asked him loudly, irritated with his not giving me any details."To my dealers apartment. We're getting a new supply, and later this week I'm going to show you how to smuggle them." He said, moving to walk beside me. I wasn't used to this side of him, serious and dark.

My breath hitched when he pressed his hand onto my chest, but I noticed he was just stopping me from walking into oncoming traffic. I mutter my thanks and we keep walking, my mind churning with unasked questions.

"Antonio, do you take the drugs?" I questioned intently, that seeming to be the most important question.

"No, I just sell them. My last mule-"

"Don't call me that. If you love me you won't call me a mule."

"Yes, sorry Lovi. As I was saying, my last smuggler quit when he found out one of our suppliers was arrested. Got cold feet you could say. So when I found you hiding some glockamole in your locker I figured I could get to know you better, and get a new smuggler."

This wasn't Antonio. This was some drug kingpin who just happens to run a gas station on the side. I wanted to get away but it was too late for me to go back. Should I report him to the police? No. I can't do that if I'm a minor in possession of an illegal firearm and it would effect Feli and Grampa if I went to prison.

"Lovino? You're being awful quiet. Did I do something wrong?" Antonio asked worriedly as we approached a really dumpy apartment building a few streets over from the store.

"You worry too much ya damn tomato eater. Oi, where does this junkie live anyways?" I spat, seeing his face go back to its usual smirk. "Just in this building here. His name is Alfred and he lives with his husband, who's a total jerk by the way. If they're fucking when we get there just yell something about a fire and they'll come outside."

I stared at him in awe and shook my head. "Whatever, let's just get the goods so I can go the hell home you cuck!" I snapped, Antonio smiling at me as we walked into the building. It smelled like spoiled milk and everything we touched was so sticky I had to suppress my urge to scream.

Eventually we reached a room with the number "221" on it. Antonio didn't even knock before he twisted the brass knob and ran into the room, shouting "ALFIE! It's Toni and his m-" I shot him a look and he corrected himself. "And his smuggler!"

A tall, pale man with fluffy blonde walked in from a nearby doorway and his blue eyes lit up. "Oh, hey man! Who's this guy? He looks like this one kid Ludwig slept with last week. Actually, he looks exactly like that kid. Dude, did your smuggler sleep with Ludwig!?" He kept babbling as I remembered when Feliciano had gone out on a date last week.

My twin slept with one of my co-workers.

Antonio had since engaged the man in conversation, and I tried vaguely to follow along as I planned a murder. "Oi, blonde fatty. What's your name?!" I shot to the stranger, and he looked hurt as I insulted him.

"Well, I'm the bravest and bestest man alive, Alfred Freedom Kirkland-Jones! And what's your name muleykins?" Alfred shot at me, and he smirked as he did so. Antonio cringed a bit as I slowly moved to sit between them on a dirty couch nearby.

My breath slowed and I made direct eye contact with Alfred. "Lovino Vargas. If you call me a mule again I will put a fishhook down your urethra and castrate your husband, so you better watch your fucking back."

He didn't talk to me after that.

Ultimately Antonio got a few bags of heroin, a location for drop off, and what time we should be there. Apparently Alfred's husband was his smuggler and right now he was at some war house giving meth to some college students, so we didn't get to meet him, but Antonio said I would meet him next time.

As we waved goodbye Antonio took off his hoodie and I vocally laughed at the shirt he was wearing underneath. It was a Nine Inch Nails sweater and I couldn't help but smile. "Nice shirt, did you get it at Hot Topic?" I asked jokingly, and he looked deeply offended.

"Well at least I have friends!" He cried back, fake tears welling up in his eyes. I snorted and walked away, dreading what will happen at the drop off later.

At least Antonio will be there, and armed.

Authors note- There is a playlist for this! Look up "Pretty Little Head" by solaris_has_swag on Spotifiy, and follow for new music daily!