#byams

[iamregressing]

my collab with @chaiatelierr dedicated to @devdevlin and her fluffy romance story, BYAMS 🫶

[devdevlin]

Hello!! Hope life is treating you well, lovely!

Are there any plans for a update of spit your pity into my soul?? If not, I will be patiently until there are :)

Ahhh thank you, this was very lovely to receive, I hope the same for you!! 🖤🖤

Ummm… I am chipping away at it. Lol. Most days I write a little bit for it (strong emphasis here on the word ‘little’), but I am probably quite far off of an update, I’m very sorry. Most of my capacity is going into work at the moment, and I must confess, writing about Comac doesn’t scratch the same itch as writing about Tom… *sigh*

Here is a little teaser though! I hope you like what I have planned hehehehe 🖤🖤🖤 (spoilers below)

"Mr. Riddle, if you'd like to respond...?"

He nods slightly and angles his face towards her, though his eyes stay firmly focused on the table between them.

Now that she’s properly looking at him, Hermione can just see the shadow of movement of his leg beneath the table. He’s bouncing it as though he's nervous or restless. Agitated.

Tom clears his throat.

"Her—" He pauses and clears his throat again. "Hermione."

His voice is rough and grainy; textured, the same as it had been back in the courtroom. The damage she'd done to his vocal cords must've been permanent.

Good.

"I... admire the courage it must have taken for you to come here and get all of that off your chest,” he says slowly, speaking without looking at her. "I, too, often find myself reflecting on our night together, and all the ways I wish my actions had been diff—"

"No," she grounds out over him. It's probably pushing her luck, probably delivered too aggressively for such a session, but Pamela doesn't stop her. "No, if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you would refrain from describing the worst night I've ever lived through as 'our night together'."

Tom's eyebrows shoot upwards. He glances at Pamela and waits for some input.

She doesn't give any, though. She simply continues to watch them carefully, her lips pressed together as though she’s biting at her inner lip.

Tom sniffs and angles his eyes back down towards the table.

"My apologies," he says tightly. "I was simply attempting to be considerate with my choice of words."

"Oh, don’t worry, I don’t mind. You can call it what it was; the night you assaulted me. Multiple times," Hermione hisses icily. "Besides. In the time I knew you, you never seemed to care much for being considerate."

"Ms. Granger," Pamela finally chimes in quietly.

Tom rubs at his eyebrow. "All I was trying to say, is that I am regretful for everything that happened."

"Regretful you were caught, you mean."

"Ms. Granger," Pamela says again, more forcefully this time. "Your feelings are valid. But to ensure they can continue to be heard, we need to keep the session in the space of impact and accountability. And Mr. Riddle— this is the time for taking responsibility, not for debating. Now, when you say 'regretful,' can you be more specific? Regretful for what, exactly?"

Hermione hears Tom exhale quietly through his nose, and when she looks up—

Finally, he’s staring right at her. "I regret what I put you through that night—the night that I assaulted you," he says directly. "I regret the way you've carried it with you, and I regret the way things unfolded. If I could go back and do things differently... I would."

Her heart flutters instinctively. It’s hard to think through it, hard to formulate some sort of response, because now that she’s at the receiving end of that hollow look—the same one she remembers from her nightmares—all she can hear is what he doesn't say.

I regret I didn't put you through more.

I regret that you're alive to carry it at all.

If I could go back and kill you instead, I would.

But his expression— his eyes are blank. Utterly neutral. From a look alone, she can't tell if he's lying.

"...I don't believe you," she whispers.

Tom blinks. His neutral expression doesn’t waver.

But beneath the table, his leg is still bouncing.

[clavasbalas]

Have been reading @devdevlin's Break Yourself Against My Stones and I AM LOVING IT.

The atmosphere, the tension, and the adrenaline I feel while reading it are magnificent.

Dev's writing contrasts Hermione's innocence with Tom's cruelty in an incredible mixture.

Go go go go read it!

[devdevlin]

Devvvv I really really miss your BYAMS stories huwahhhh😭

Hermione stares at her reflection.

She's ready.

Her messy bun is just what she had in mind; out of the way in the back, seductive and dangly in the front. She'd gone for a lip gloss as close to the colour of her nipples as she'd been able to find, and her eyeliner is as sharp as she's ever going to get it. She'd even dusted off the nicest dress she owns, and had bought a new matching pair of strappy heels to match.

This is it. It's been a long time, but—

She can do this.

She's ready.

~~

"—but United's got Fernandes! Who've the Spurs got? So, I said to him, 'why don't you just piss our money into the river next time, why the hell would you bet on them?' And you know what he says back?"

"I can't fathom a guess," Hermione mumbles, stroking the stem of her wine glass.

"He says— 'you'll be surprised'," Cormac finishes as he leans back with a self-satisfied grin.

It's only when he pauses that she looks up, finding him blinking at her, waiting for her reaction.

Hermione clears her throat. "Oh, um— wow. That's... yeah. That is rather poor of him, isn't it?"

"Yes!" Cormac says. "And so of course United ends up destroying them, and we're two-thousand pounds short. We're not inviting him back next year. The other guys agree, this is the third time this year—"

"You know what," Hermione interrupts, unable to bear it any longer, "we should get out of here."

Cormac straightens abruptly. "Get— leave, you mean?"

"We can go back to my place," she offers, biting her lip for good measure. "We could... spend some time together...?"

For a long moment, as he continues to stare like a fish out of water, she thinks she might've gone over Cormac's head.

But then—oh, thank goodness—his cheeks flush pink, his mouth turning upwards in a crooked grin.

"Yeah all right then."

~~

"Oh hey, this is nice," Cormac remarks as he steps into her entry way while Hermione hangs her jacket and stashes her keys.

"It's my parent's place," she admits sheepishly, quickly adding, "don't worry. They're staying in London overnight for a conference tonight. That's why I thought we could..."

"Oh. I didn't realise you still lived with your parents..." he mumbles as he looks around curiously, but at least his words don't come with any malice. He sounds genuinely just a little taken off guard, not judgemental.

His reaction shouldn't be a surprise. Cormac has always been nice like that.

"Yeah, well... you know what rent's like right now," she says, gesturing to take his jacket. He gives it over. "I'm... sorry I didn't tell you. It's just... yeah. It's a little embarrassing, to be honest."

"Hey, no judgement here," he says, giving her that golden retriever grin that had lured her in in the first place. "I moved out at twenty-two, but shit, that was hard. I'd have jumped at the chance to move back."

Hermione laughs, hanging his jacket up beside hers.

"So, uh. What do you want to do?" he asks, innocently enough as though she hadn't all but propositioned him at the restaurant. "Should we grab another drink, or I don't know if any movies are—"

Hermione interrupts him by taking him by the collar and rises to her toes to kiss him.

She pulls back after a long peck. "I don't want to watch a movie," she whispers, trailing her fingers down his collar towards his buttons. "Is that okay?"

Cormac smiles like he can't believe his luck, his eyes finding her mouth. "Sounds good to me."

Upstairs, a short ten minutes later, Hermione waits on her bed, wringing her hands together to keep from fidgeting while Cormac uses his teeth to open the small square packet that had come from his wallet, and pulls out the rolled condom.

It makes a squishy, wet sound as he unrolls it over himself. Hermione pretends not to hear it and fiddles at the stitching of her quilt by her sides nervously.

Don't think about it.

Don't think about it.

It's just sex.

It'll be fine— no. Great.

It'll be great.

The best sex ever.

Once he's seemingly finished with the condom, Cormac shifts towards her on the bed, scooting towards her on his knees.

Hermione leans back and pulls her legs up to rest on either side of him, making room for him between them.

Cormac is built stockily. Athletic. Usually that alone would be enough to put her off, but since meeting him six months ago, he's always been consistently gentle in his demeanour.

Sure, he can be a bit shallow at times, and sure, they don't exactly have much in the way of overlapping interests, but she can tell from just a glance how much he likes her. That helps. So does his patience and his humour.

And so, there isn't anyone else she'd rather do this with.

It. Sex.

And yet, she can't help the wave of trepidation the comes as he places his hand on her thigh, pushing her legs open just a little wider. She tries to relax, tries to breathe through it as he reaches between them, but now that her nerves are prickling it's hard to get them to stop.

Because— what if it hurts?

It's been years. What if she doesn't know how to do it anymore?

What if she makes a fool of herself, or what if she tells him to stop and he doesn't, or what if—

"Are you okay?" Cormac asks, frowning down at her.

Hermione averts her eyes and looks down towards his cock.

In all honesty, it looks a little silly with the condom on and the open little tip of plastic at the end, but that's good. It reminds her of less of—

"Mhmm," she hums, as she nudges him in closer with her heels.

Cormac obliges, taking himself in his hand, hovering over her.

"Do you want me to—"

"Yes," she blurts. God, just get on with it. "Please."

"Are you sure you don't want me to—"

"No, just—"

She rolls her hips upwards, trying to make contact with the tip of his cock in the hopes he'll get the message and she won't have to say it out loud. Just shut up and put it in before I change my mind.

Cormac smiles a little bit and brings himself to her entrance. The tip of his cock is cool against her, damp with the slightly sticky coating of the condom.

And despite how sure she'd been, all of a sudden, her breath catches. Now that they've come this far, now that he's pressing against her, she can't help but think—

What if he holds her down?

What if he mocks her, or decides to try for her arse half way through, or what he has a knife stashed in his pocket and decides to tie her up?

What if he gets his phone out, what if he films her?

Hermione very nearly starts to panic, but as Cormac gently presses into her, none of her fears come true. He isn't rough; instead he pushes into her slowly and considerately.

He takes his time easing back and forth, and when he's all the way in, his cock feels warm and intrusive, but it doesn't hurt the way she remembers. Cormac's hold on her stays loose all the while.

Hermione breathes out a sigh of relief.

Cormac misreads it. "That feels good," he says in response, his eyes fluttering closed above her.

"Mhmm," she hums, swallowing her nerves. "Would you... could you just...?"

As she pushes back gently on his stomach, Cormac obliges and pulls back steadily before he slides back into her, with a firm, yet considerate jerk of his hips.

And it's—

Yeah.

The stretch of him is warm and smooth. As his thrusts start to come a little faster, a trickle of warmth even starts to spark through her. It isn't unpleasant.

"A little— mm, more like that," she breathes, pulling him in closely with her heels so he can rock deeply into her.

Now that he's getting into it, she finds he's not quite as big as she'd like, not quite scratching that itch. He's long enough, a mild, dull ache sparking with each thrust as the head of his cock brushes her cervix, but he isn't as girthy as she'd imagined, not like—

Fucking hell—

You love this don't you—

Hermione balls her hands into fists around the quilt beneath her.

No, she thinks, shushing the slipping, intrusive thought. No more will she shy away; this is her body, hers alone, and it's long past time that she reclaim it.

She bucks her hips to meet Cormac's thrusts with her own to make them come more forcefully to heighten the friction, to drown out the memory of that voice.

It works for a bit, but as he gets a little more into the rhythm, Cormac's thrusts start to come with a loud squelching sound, the wet latex of the condom rubbing between them like it isn't a great fit for him.

It's distracting, so Hermione wraps her arm around his shoulders, pulling him in as he thrusts into her so she can bury her head into his shoulder and he won't see her grimace.

He turns in towards her to look at her though, his teeth catching lightly at her ear as he groans.

"You feel so good, Hermione."

"Y-yeah. So do you," she whispers, focusing on the angle of her hips, trying to quell that squelching.

Cormac shifts himself back up to lean his weight on his arm, his other coming to hold her waist.

His hand is big; warm and a little sweaty. He's gentle with it as his touch roams upwards, his hand  encompassing her breast as he goes.

She doesn't mean to, but it's hard not to clench up when he settles his hand on her chest, resting the heavy weight of it between her breasts over her sternum.

Hermione tries not to, but as he fucks her like that, in that position—

You—

       You drove me fucking crazy—

The memory is sharper this time, realer. Hermione gasps, blinking, and for a split second, it isn't Cormac above her anymore, but him.

She whines through her teeth. Panic bubbles deep within, but as the repressed memory of that night floods her, as she blinks and sees flashes of Tom's dark, dead eyes staring down at her instead of Cormac's warm ones, his thrusts seem to hit deeper, finding a different place inside of her.

A warm, building tingle—

A low, molten swoop—

And it's—

"Nyahh," Cormac moans feebly as he slows over her, hips settling into hers as he comes.

Hermione gasps at the sudden loss of friction.

Her stomach drops as she squirms beneath him, trying to grind her hips upwards to chase the building tightness— but as quickly as it had risen up within her, it's gone again.

Tears prickle in her eyes.

When Cormac starts to draw back, Hermione does her best to keep from wincing at the quiet, wet slurping sound of his softening cock pulling out from her.

Cormac collapses beside her, breathing heavily with exertion. He reaches to wrap his arm around her and she settles into the crook of his shoulder.

"That... was good," he puffs.

Hermione sniffs.

"Yeah."

"...Are you all right?" Cormac asks.

"Yeah," she says, nestling into his chest. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"That wasn't too much?"

"No," she mumbles, swallowing loudly. "Not at all."

[devdevlin]

Dev for some reason in my random mind slughorn at byams would hate Hermione for putting his favorite student in jail instead of hating tom for his actions hahaha lol

“Professor Slughorn?”

The round-bellied man glanced up like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes snapped to hers, and in a flash, he started shuffling out from the library hurriedly with his cane, putting his head down and continuing on his way.

“Professor Slughorn? Would you please answer the question, sir?”

“Oho— I don’t quite… I didn’t hear any such question, but I’m afraid that even if I had, I’m in an awful hurry, so if you’d please…”

He tried to hobble off again, but Rita slipped in the way of his path, not one to be thwarted.

“Is it true you used to spend your evenings twice a week alone with Mr. Riddle in the lab? Would you care to tell us, in explicit detail, just how you spent those evenings?”

His cheeks flushed pink.

“Now you listen here, young lady!” snapped Slughorn. “I don’t know who’s put you up to this, but these are legal matters, not matters for an underground university notice board, seen by all of fifteen students. Now if you’d pardon me…”

“That sounds an awful lot like guilt to me, if you don’t mind me saying, Professor.”

He huffed and continued on, mumbling under his breath as he went.

“…I never… students these days… haven’t got a single clue…”

“All right then, what about Miss Granger? Is it true you were grooming her to join your group for Mr. Riddle’s benefit?”

It happened so fast that Rita hadn’t a chance of seeing it coming.

One minute, the old man was determinedly shuffling away, and the next, he’d used his cane to whop the camera clean out of Colin’s weedy hands.

“If you pester me one more time about these matters, I’ll place a police report about the two of you,” he snapped with another threatening wave of his cane.

Rita edged back out of the cane’s way, so shocked that all she could do was blink.

And with that, in what must’ve been record speed, Slughorn was long gone.

[devdevlin]

Dev if you don't mind can we peek into the mind of tom riddle byams who is in prison hahaha🤭 i just suddenly felt curious

Well you know how I feel about Tom POV in genres such as these… and I’m afraid I probably won’t have anything substantial for you for a good few months, but crumbs are better than nothing, I suppose… right?

"Good morning, might I happen to be speaking with Hermione Granger?"

"Yes," she says, "yes, that's me."

"Wonderful, my name is Pamela, and I'm a facilitator with the Restorative Justice Program, how are you?"

"Oh," she squeaks, heart skipping a quick beat. "I'm— yes I'm good, thank you. How are you?"

"I'm very well, thank you. I'm calling to let you know that following your acceptance which you provided last week, we've gone ahead and have spoken with Mr Riddle here at the correctional facility. Now, I regret to inform you that after our consultation, Mr Riddle has unfortunately declined to participate in the program."

Hermione freezes.

...What?

Had she really just said—

Declined?

"My dear, are you still there?"

Hermione almost jumps. "Uh— yes. Yes, I— sorry. I'm here."

"All right. I'm very sorry it's not the news you were hoping to hear, but this does unfortunately happen from time to time. We have informed Mr Riddle as part of the consultation that if he has a change of heart, he is welcome to let us know, and should that happen, we will reach out to you again. But at this stage, this is where we'll leave it. Is that all okay?"

A solid, uncomfortable lump has formed in her throat, because no.

No, it's not okay.

How… how dare he?

How dare—?

"Yes of course," Hermione says through her teeth. “I understand. Thank you for your time.”

[devdevlin]

sure. I don’t get it! but if it’s supposed to be horrific like you’re saying, then I don’t think anybody in your comments section is either. seems like they can’t get enough of it and are getting off to it which …. Ew

Byams is a work of fiction, one that is SUPPOSED to be dark, disturbing, erotic, and horrific, all at once. The main themes I am trying to capture are about a predator hiding in plain sight, a system that fails, a girl who refuses to become just another victim, and the relationship between fear and desire.

Now. Say it with me: THE EXPLICIT CONTENT IS INTENTIONAL. IT IS THERE TO BE CONFRONTING. THAT’S THE POINT. The fact that you’re confronted is THE ENTIRE POINT. If you don’t like that, if you’re not comfortable with reading DARK, EXPLICIT CONTENT that is labelled as DARK EXPLICIT CONTENT, then don’t read it. The fact that you chose to do so is entirely on you. You could’ve stopped at chapter 4. No one held your eyes open and forced you to read it.

As for your remarks about comments from other readers—some comments come from my GOOD FRIENDS who enjoy bantering with me in the comments, and they use humour and sarcasm to do so. And hey, some aren’t sarcastic, and you know what? THAT’S OKAY TOO. I’m annoyed I have to break this to you, but there’s nothing wrong with engaging with FICTIONAL dark erotic material. The combination of sexual themes with the unsettling, frightening elements of horror is ITS OWN GENRE, one with the PURPOSE of exploring the intersection of desire and fear, that is BUILT on the heightened emotions of these… WHICH IS ONE OF THE UNDERLYING THEMES OF THE STORY ITSELF.

If you don’t get it, that’s fine. But don’t come to me here on my personal page intent on shaming me and others that do get it

[devdevlin]

Hello! Hope you’re doing well, dev!

I just binged the BYMAS prequel and wanted to say THANK YOU FOR FEEDING US MORE, MOTHER. Truly. I had one of the worst reading slumps after finishing BYMAS-nothing in my library or TBR could hold my attention-and I fear I'll have another reading slump. Your writing is *just* that impeccable and transcending.

I was just wondering if you’re planning to finish it soon, maybe with weekly updates, or if you’re prioritizing your other WIPs at the moment? Either way is completely up to you, of course! No pressure at all-no need to rush just to feed us, even if we starve to death :>

You always come first, dev. Thank you for sharing your work with us 🖤

Ahhh hey, thanks for popping by!!! 🖤🖤🖤 and thank you ever so much for the kind words, it’s always a pleasure seeing your name in my ask box!

I’ll be honest, I don’t have a schedule for posting, and I don’t have any intentions of making one, sorry! It’s just that I know myself, and I know that my attention changes with the wind and I am unreliable hahahha

Honestly, I’ll probably flit between my WIPS a bit, I think! I actually posted this one because Verso is giving me a very hard time atm, so your guess as to what I’ll update is as good as mine *sigh* 🖤🖤 Thanks again, it’s so lovely to know there’s people interested in my twisted stories 🤗🖤🖤🖤