The Connection

-Prologue-

-Prologue-

*Trigger Warning*

•Tyler POV•

Drunk. That's what I needed. I needed to get piss drunk. Days had been rough at work lately, well, as rough as YouTube can get, and my stress level had skyrocketed; sometimes when your stress skyrockets all you gotta do is get drunk. I needed to get away from all of the stress, everything that was making me miserable at the moment.

I walked into the gay bar and smiled to myself - full bar tonight. I sat myself down and the bartender walked on over to me like he always does.

"Same thing, man?"

I nodded.

Lately, I had been coming to this bar often. Often enough for the bartender to remember me, which is probably pretty extreme, but look at all of the fucks I give.

"Here ya go," he thew down two beers and I chugged them both. I was starting to get a little tipsy after the beers, but I knew I needed something stronger.

"Got any vodka?" I asked, calling the bartender over. He smirked, nodded, and then poured me some.

Once I was drunk enough I could barely feel anymore, I began socializing. Well, more like flirting and griding, but you get my drift.

I finally reached one guy who was semi attractive and knew what I wanted.

We grinded and dirty danced, obviously both drunk as fuck, and sloppily made out with one another. He smelled disgusting, I could taste the alcohol on his tongue and it made me want to vomit.

He wasn't a pretty, nice boy; he was a dirty, bad boy and that turned me on. It turned me on a lot. He had a accent, it sounded slightly Australian, I couldn't tell, as I was drunk.

"Wanna get outta here?" He slurred in my ear.

"Sure," I said as he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out if the bar.

"D-Do you have a car?" I slurred.

"Na."

"Should I call an u-uber?" I giggled.

"Nah, we can walk to my apartment from here."

When we arrived to his house, he slammed his front door and immediately pushed him on his couch. His breath, full of cigarette smoke and alcohol made my stomach churn.

"I-I have to vomit."

He jumped off of me, "Hurry back, babe."

As soon as I reached the bathroom, I vomited up all of the contents of my stomach. When I was done, I felt slightly more sober than I was before. Scratch that, much more sober than I was before.

"I-I don't feel very well, I think I'm gonna go home," I muttered, walking out of the bathroom. As soon as I said it, his eyes turned dark and cold.

"Oh no you're not," he sneered, "I didn't go into that bar for my fuck of the night to run away."

"What?" I quietly asked.

He didn't respond, but grabbed my arm and yanked me into his bed. He pulled my arms above my head and held them there. He quickly unbuckled my pants with his unused hand and yanked them off so I was left in only my boxers.

"Please don't," I begged. He rolled his eyes and started to remove his own pants. He removed his boxers and that's precisely the moment I started thrashing. This was rape. I did not give him my consent to fuck me therefore, this is rape.

"Let go," I screamed, kicking and flailing my arms.

"Hold still you little shit!" He smacked me across the face and my nose had definitely started bleeding.

Suddenly, he threw me against the bed, my head hitting the headboard and swiftly walked out of his room, slamming the door behind him. I secretly hoped he was getting me ice for my wounds, but I knew that was not the case.

He walked in and my stomach dropped. Rope. He was holding a rope.

He hastily walked over to the bed and tied my arms above my head and my legs spread.

"Maybe now you'll cooperate, eh?"

He threw off my boxers and not even a minute later, he was thrusting into me - no lube, nothing. I screamed in pain, his length thrusting into me, hurting even more each time.

"Stop," I cried, "Stop!"

"What did you say to me?"

He pulled out of me and hovered over me.

"Nothing," I whispered.

"I said, What did you say to me?" He demanded, louder.

"Nothing." I whispered, my voiced wavering because of the tears threatening to fall.

"Oh, you wanted me to stop, is that what you said?"

I slowly nodded, unsurely.

"Well that's not gonna happen now, is it?"

He smacked me in the face, again, harder than before and I could feel the blood, dripping. He repositioned himself and thrusted harder, faster this time, making the pain more prominent. I layed there and cried until he had finally came and finished what he wanted.

"Good boy." He smirked as he finally pulled out.

"Now get the fuck out of my house."

"I-It's an apartment."

"Don't smart ass me, punk!"

Dammit, Tyler.

"Leave," he pushed me out of his door, hitting the rock wall on the other side of the hallway, "and take your nasty ass clothes with ya!"

And with that, I layed there, injured, sore and tired, and cried.

A/N: okay okay hi hello that was the first chapter I hope y'all liked it also Sam and I have established that we will be posting every Monday Wednesday and Friday,((apart from today, of course)) but yeah I hope you guys liked this and yes if you're one of my readers go and check out sam's personal account: @troylerhadmelike because he's a fab writer and if you wanna check out my other stories my account is @tinmac11 okay i love ya cuties Dubai !

-Kristen