#haima

[mamaqknowu]

˓  ㅤ 𔕛 KINKTOBER 2025 : Bath sex

Paring : Jealousy!Sea Spear Douluo x Fem!Reader

Rating : nsfw

Words : 2.2K

C/W : pwp / age gab / jealousy / multiple orgasms / smut / kink / bath sex / dirty talk / titty fucking / begging / impregnantation / lactation.

Version : eng

 ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

 ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

The slam of the door was a blade in the silence.

It didn’t echo. It reverberated. A deep-throated thud that made the walls flinch and the floor shift under your bare feet. It was not a sound meant to announce his arrival—it was a sentence, passed down before he’d spoken a word.

And then came the stillness. A cruel, sharp kind of stillness. The kind that makes heat rise before touch. Makes breath catch before sound.

You stood in the bathroom wrapped in a too-thin towel that clung to your damp skin, heart already pounding, as if it knew something your mind refused to admit.

Steam lingered from the shower you’d taken moments earlier, drifting upward like ghosts. But the air was no longer warm. It was stifling. Because it wasn’t water fogging the mirror—it was him.

His presence alone distorted the world around him. Sea Spear Douluo was not a man you could simply breathe beside. He was a storm pulled tight into the shape of muscle and menace.

And tonight, that storm had a target.

You.

He didn’t say your name. He didn’t need to.

“You let him touch you.”

The voice didn’t rise. It didn’t shout. But it cracked against your skin like a whip. Calm. Low. Burned through the air with the weight of command. It hit something inside you—something hot and terrified and needy.

You tried to speak. You really did. Your lips parted, but your tongue didn’t dare shape defense.

It wouldn’t have mattered. Because he was already moving. Crossing the tile in those deliberate, booted steps, like a predator whose prey had already accepted its place.

He reached for you and you didn’t resist.

His fingers were not tender.

They caught your chin, lifting it—just enough pressure to mark, not enough to bruise yet, but the threat curled beneath every inch of his hold.

His eyes locked onto yours, and you felt your spine soften under his stare, your breath hitch.

“Did he earn it?” he asked again, voice rougher now, like gravel dragged across velvet.

“Did that bastad deserve to put his filthy eyes on you? Did you let him imagine fucking you while I was gone?”

The mirror behind you shimmered. The steam made your reflection hazy, ghost-like. But you could still see it—the tension in your shoulders, the flush creeping up your chest.

Your eyes—wide, defenseless. And his. Pitch dark, unreadable, full of heat that could boil oceans.

“You like being watched, don’t you?” he continued, tone curling into something darker, laced with mockery and the promise of punishment.

“You like tempting. Teasing. Letting other men wonder what you sound like when you cum.”

His hand dropped from your face. Just for a second.

Then it found the zipper on your towel.

And pulled.

The fabric peeled away with a whisper and a hiss, the metal teeth shrieking in protest. Cold air kissed your skin just before his gaze did, and your body reacted—nipples pebbling tight, back arching without thought, breath sucked between your teeth.

He exhaled—one low sound, like a predator savoring the sight of prey stripped and trembling.

“Fucking perfect,” he muttered.

Then his mouth was on your chest. Not gently. Not sweet. His lips brushed the swell of your breast, then opened, and he bit—not hard enough to break skin, but deep enough to leave heat.

Then his tongue followed, hot and sinuous, swirling around your nipple and sucking it into his mouth. His other hand slipped down, cupping your thigh, dragging you toward the sink, until your hips bumped against porcelain and he lifted you onto it.

The counter was cool. He was not.

He pulled your legs apart, spreading you open like an offering. His breath washed over your thighs, and when his fingers slid through your folds, he found you soaked—dripping, shameless, flushed with guilt and want.

He laughed under his breath.

“Tsk. Dripping because I’m angry?” His thumb stroked your clit, slow and cruel.

“You’re wetter now than you were when I kissed you this morning.”

You whimpered, shivering as he slid a finger inside, slow at first—then another, pumping them in and curling upward until your hips jolted.

The sound of him fucking you with just his fingers filled the bathroom, lewd and sticky and wet.

“Maybe I should let others touch you more often,” he said, voice almost thoughtful, like a man making plans.

“If this is how your cunt reacts. Betraying you. Begging me.”

You gasped when his fingers twisted. Your legs clamped around his arm instinctively, body seizing as heat twisted tight in your belly.

“No—please—” you tried, but your voice was already dissolving.

“Beg better.”

“I—I’m yours,” you moaned, panting. “Only yours—always yours, please, please—make me—!”

He didn’t wait for you to finish. He ripped a third orgasm from you before the first one had fully faded. Your cries bounced off the tile, wild and broken. He stood, dragging his slick fingers across your lips.

“Swallow.”

You obeyed.

And he unbuckled his belt.

The clatter of the belt buckle echoed like a warning bell across the bathroom’s tile walls—metal against ceramic, sharp and final. His hands worked quickly, pulling his cock free, already hard, already swollen, veins pulsing with restrained fury.

He looked down at you—not like a lover, not even like a man—but like a claim incarnate. A beast whose territory had been trespassed, and now the world would pay in sweat, moans, and spilled seed.

“You’re going to remember,” he murmured, gripping your thighs and dragging you forward, your ass teetering on the cool edge of the counter.

“Not just tonight. Every time you try to walk. Every time you feel this cum leaking down your thighs, you’ll remember who fucking owns you.”

He leaned forward, pressing his cock between your breasts, sliding through the soft weight of them, smearing his precum over your flushed skin.

“Hold them together,” he ordered.

Your arms moved without thought, pushing your tits together around his length, wrapping them in soft heat.

He began to thrust—slow at first, deliberate, letting the head of his cock emerge slick and glistening between the valley of your breasts.

Each motion left your nipples brushing against his abs, sending jolts of sensation through you.

“Fuck… that’s it.” His voice dropped, husky and low.

“Filthy little thing. Letting me fuck your tits while your cunt’s still twitching from how hard I fingered you.”

Your hips twitched, traitorous. The friction, the sight, the utter helplessness of being used like this—it all pooled low in your belly again, warmth building to a slow, dangerous boil.

His eyes met yours. He slowed. Pressed the head of his cock against your lips.

“Want to taste?”

You nodded, eyes wide and dark with hunger.

He let you wrap your lips around him for only a second—just long enough to taste salt and musk, to hear his hiss of pleasure—before he pulled back and dragged himself down your chest again. He wasn’t here to let you tease. He was here to claim.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he pulled you up off the counter and turned you, bending you over the sink with one hand splayed over your lower back and the other gripping your hip.

The mirror in front of you showed your own face—flushed, mouth open, pupils blown wide. It also showed him behind you, bare-chested, hair wild, muscles taut beneath bronze skin.

Then he thrust.

All the way in.

One brutal push that punched the breath from your lungs and made your hands claw at the edge of the sink.

He didn’t pause.

He didn’t ask.

He just took.

Every slam of his hips drove his cock deeper, grinding against your cervix with a precision born from obsession.

Your breasts swung beneath you, leaking milk in rhythmic beads with every thrust, splattering onto the floor below.

“That’s it,” he growled, eyes locked onto the mess you made.

“Fucking leaking for me already. You feel that, don’t you? How deep I am? How full you are?”

You sobbed, body strung tight with the effort to hold on. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the bathroom, a chorus of obscene pleasure that grew louder with each second.

And then—

“Touch yourself.”

You obeyed instantly, fingers finding your clit, slick and swollen, rubbing in desperate circles as his cock pounded into you from behind. The tension snapped fast and vicious.

Your orgasm hit like a tsunami—your cunt clenching, milking him, your body convulsing as milk squirted from your nipples in sharp, glistening spurts.

He groaned—loud, feral—and drove into you harder, faster.

“Fucking drown for me,” he spat, teeth clenched. “Cum again. Scream for me.”

And you did. Again.

And again.

Until your legs gave out.

Until your voice was raw.

Until your body was a trembling, soaked ruin.

He came deep—roaring, grinding against you, filling your womb with thick heat that overflowed almost instantly, trailing down your thighs, coating the inside of your legs.

You collapsed, body limp over the counter.

But he didn’t let you go.

His hands didn’t soften—not even after the orgasm shook through him and he emptied himself inside you.

He held your hips with the same iron grip, as if your body might slip away from him with the tide of his spent lust. But there was no escape, no retreat. Sea Spear Douluo was not done.

Your chest rose and fell in stuttered gasps, skin dewed with sweat and glistening milk, the porcelain counter sticky beneath your thighs, your knees threatening to give completely.

But he kept you standing. He pulled you back upright, one hand splayed across your abdomen, his cum already seeping out of your overstretched cunt and painting the inside of your thighs in thick, white trails.

And he watched.

Silent for a moment—just watching the ruin he’d made of you.

“Look at that,” he murmured, voice rougher now, edged with a possessiveness that made your breath hitch again.

“Leaking already. Still twitching. Still begging.”

His hand slid downward and his fingers traced the slick path of his cum as it slipped from you.

He caught a glob on two fingers and dragged them up, past your slit, over the hood of your clit. You whimpered. Your body jerked.

Too sensitive. Too raw.

He didn’t care.

“Fucking look at yourself.”

He turned you to face the mirror. Pressed you against it.

Your reflection stared back—barely recognizable. Hair tangled, mouth parted, breasts leaking milk in sticky streams down your stomach.

The insides of your thighs painted white. Lips kiss-bruised. Eyes wide and glassy. You looked claimed.

Because you were.

“This is mine,” he whispered against your neck, dragging his cock, still wet with your slick and his cum, across your backside.

“Every drop. Every breath. Every inch.”

You moaned, your knees trembling again as he pressed himself between your thighs.

You thought maybe this was the end—that maybe he’d collapse against you, breathe with you, hold you through the aftershocks.

But no.

He turned you again. Swept you off the floor like you weighed nothing and carried you—dripping, ruined, utterly undone—back to the floor. He lowered you slowly, laying you onto the warm tile.

“You thought I was finished?” he asked, crouching over you, the muscles in his arms taut, veins standing out along his forearms.

“No, sweetheart. Not even close.”

He kissed you then—not sweetly, not softly, but deeply. Tongue plunging past your lips, tasting your whimpers, tasting the desperation on your breath.

When he pulled back, his face hovered inches from yours, eyes locked with yours.

“Open. Wider.”

You obeyed.

He leaned back on his knees and stroked himself—slow and steady. The head of his cock shone with your slick and his seed, and he watched you, watched your mouth, watched your chest rise and fall as milk dripped down your sides.

“Look at this slutty little body,” he murmured.

“Dripping milk, dripping cum, aching for more. You’re made to be fucked. Made to be filled.”

You moaned, your lips parted in want, in need.

Then he pressed the head of his cock against your mouth.

“Now taste it. Taste what I filled you with.”

Your lips closed around him.

He groaned—deep and full, as your mouth wrapped around the head, tongue swirling, your eyes fluttering as you tasted the salt and heat of him, the remnants of your own juices clinging to the skin.

You sucked gently, letting him slide deeper, inch by inch, your throat relaxing around the weight of him.

He placed a hand behind your head, guiding you. Not forcing. Guiding.

“That’s it,” he breathed.

“Good girl. Fucking perfect. You’ll learn what it means to be bred, to be owned. You’ll feel this in your throat, in your womb, in your bones.”

Your fingers gripped his thighs, steadying yourself as he began to thrust—not fast, not rough, just deep.

Rhythmic. Intent. His cock fucked your mouth the same way it fucked your cunt—like it was home. Like it was meant to live there.

When he pulled out, a string of spit and seed connected your lips to his tip.

“Get on all fours,” he growled.

You did.

Still trembling. Still leaking. Still open.

He knelt behind you, spread your ass, and without warning, spit down between your cheeks. His fingers followed, smearing it, pressing against your tight, unused hole.

“You’re gonna take me everywhere,” he murmured, pressing his cock back into your soaking pussy just to tease. “But not yet.”

You looked back over your shoulder—mouth swollen, eyes glassy.

And you whispered the only words left.

“Please.”

His eyes gleamed.

“Good girl. Beg louder.”

dividers : @uzmacchiato @cafekitsune

[donczu]

[tsyllaes]

The mere creation of the haima has a bit of a story behind it. I have a list of creatures to draw for each kingdom, made up of all the creatures I've used in the story plus some I know will turn up, then bulking it out with 'bird,' 'insect,' 'mammal' etc to have some critters to come up as required. Tsayth's list was extremely short (it was the sea dragon and leviathan, that was it) and so I bulked it out with a few more mythical sea creatures. One of them was the hippocampus, which I think I put on there just as inspiration because hippocampus, like centaurs, piss me off. Not for the same reasons, tho. Hippocampus just don't look like they can function in water. The front legs never look right to me, even when people put fins on them. So idk.

So I started to think about those legs. No matter how I tried to turn them into something more hydrodyamic, they'd just turn into proper fins and basically become a dolphin. The idea of something to do with mudskippers came into my head, at the same time as I remembered The Shallows exist in Tsayth! The Shallows are a huge gulf in the ocean which is no more than 10m at its deepest, even at high tide, and drops down to 1m to just sand at low tide. So what if the legs are for wading when it's shallow, but they can swim when the tide comes in? And then what if it was big enough to ride, so the Tsaythis have a steed? Especially in The Shallows where a boat is only gonna get you so far.

This, therefore, is the oceanic steed of Tsayth, the haima, the name for which seems to be the Old Chinese root word for seahorse in about half a dozen Asian languages. It's about the size of a horse, and I have no idea as yet how they ride it. In deeper water, it swims mostly with its tail for propulsion and the legs are just for steering. When the water gets too shallow to swim in, it walks on the front legs, one foot in front of the other, with the stumpy back fins at the back at an opposite gait with the tail trailing behind. It doesn't hop and bound awkwardly like a seal out of water, it's definitely walking.

Haimas are fish, but amphibious. I'm not entirely certain how mudskippers do it, but they keep water in their gill chambers and breathe through that? Somehow? So they have to keep dunking their heads in water every couple of hours, but it's not like The Shallows turns to a desert every time the tide goes out. Plenty of puddles around for them to stick their heads in. I'm also going to say they absorb oxygen through their skin, because haimas don't exist and I can do what I want with them.

Speaking of, they reproduce as per seahorses: female lays eggs in the male's brood pouch, where he fertilises them and holds onto them until they hatch.

For a completely random 'use this as inspiration idk' entry into my list of creatures to draw, this has become a somewhat culture-defining creature for Tsayth, I think. They've never had a steed before! They've always just gotten around in boats but, having relatively recently created The Shallows (…okay it was 2020 shuddup), boats are only going to get them so far. So now there's something they can ride whether the tide's in or out. Can they pull things and be a beast of burden? Idk how you'd drag anything over sand wet. Wheels won't work. Anyway. Haima!

[percexe]

popup after every hit im sure this won’t get annoying /s

[nightstormartistcat]

Dropping more of my DnD NPCs in whilst I work on bigger stuff!

This is Odo (she/her)

One of the lead researchers at my nation's biggest academy!

[basketobread]

I JUST REALIZED I NEVER SHARED PALADIN LUNARA LOL (yes i drew her in aylins armor... IT'S SO PRETTY I HAD TO!!! just pretend they're swapping outfits cuz they're besties ^_^ /j)

[basketoreblogs]

[i love you mr beast voice] i love you haima

bought photomode mod

[lavampira]

I love healing a late night ivalice but especially when there’s dps completely off the rails. making it my personal mission to keep you, specifically, alive despite all best efforts to lose immunity and run into every aoe imaginable

[freezer-bride-your-sweet-divine]

Artemisia H. Jackson and Poseidon doesn't let one particular goddess within gunshot of his daughter. Relax for your father's sake, niece, you won't get his girl.

[laxmipharma]

Automatic Multi Head ROPP Cap Sealing Machine in Oman

Laxmi Pharma Equipment is a Manufacturer, Supplier, and Exporter of Automatic Multi Head ROPP Cap Sealing Machine in Oman. Our Headquartered in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India. The Automatic Multi Head ROPP Cap Sealing Machine is an advanced piece of equipment designed to ensure precise and efficient capping of bottles, particularly for industries such as pharmaceuticals, food and beverages, cosmetics, and chemicals. At Laxmi Pharma Equipment, we specialize in manufacturing high-quality Automatic Multi Head ROPP (Roll-On Pilfer Proof) Cap Sealing Machines that provide robust and consistent sealing solutions. These machines are built to meet the demanding standards of industries where safety, efficiency, and precision are paramount. An Automatic Multi Head ROPP Cap Sealing Machine is a high-speed capping device used to apply ROPP caps onto bottles or containers. It works by automatically feeding, positioning, and sealing the cap, ensuring a tight, tamper-evident seal that enhances product safety and integrity. The multi-head feature allows for faster sealing by simultaneously sealing multiple bottles in one cycle, which significantly increases production efficiency. Features: Fully automatic operation with minimal human intervention. Adjustable torque control to prevent over-tightening. High-speed performance for increased productivity. Stainless steel construction ensuring durability and hygiene. PLC-based control system for precision and reliability. No bottle - No capping system to minimize wastage. Low maintenance and easy-to-clean design. Applications: Pharmaceutical Manufacturing Biotech Industry Veterinary Medicine Cosmetic Industry Chemical Industry FAQs: How does the sealing process work? The machine automatically feeds, positions, and seals the ROPP cap onto the bottle, applying consistent pressure to ensure a tamper-evident and leak-proof seal. What are the advantages of using this machine? The advantages include increased productivity, enhanced safety with tamper-evident seals, reduced labor costs, precision, and easy integration into production lines. Laxmi Pharma Equipment is an Automatic Multi Head ROPP Cap Sealing Machine in Oman Including Adam, As Sib, Al Ashkharah, Al Buraimi, Al Hamra, Al Jazer, Al Madina, Al Suwaiq, Bahla, Barka, Bidbid, Bidiya, Duqm, Haima, Ibra, Ibri, Izki, Jabrin, Jalan Bani Bu Hassan, Khasab, Mahooth, Manah, Masirah, Mudhaybi, Mudhaireb, Muscat, Muttrah, Nizwa, Quriyat, Raysut, Rustaq, Ruwi, Saham, Shinas, Saiq, Salalah, Samail, Sohar, Sur, Tan`am, Thumrait. For more information and inquiries, feel free to contact us. Read the full article

[shuubah]

LIL LEAGUE Presents LIL CORE 🧡

This is a masterpiece, even if I do say so myself. Not to be dramatic, but I felt like I've lived this long so that I could make this video. While I was editing it, I got to confirm just why I adore LIL LEAGUE so much. Yep, it's really because I have the mental age of a kid, after all!!

YouTube link here.

[spilladabalia]

Kobus Gaat Naar Appelscha - Non Non Rien N'A Changé

[nightstormartistcat]

Strange old harrengon. NPC from my DnD camapign

[basketobread]

there’s a whole AU thing where lunara never leaves the Underdark and gets sent into the absolute and I love her (a lot of this is really old art LOL)

[perce-jpg]

i was exploring wyrms rock and found an alt route back to the coronation room like oh hey this is a door to that place. so i zoomed the camera over to inside the room to say hi to gortash and THE WHOLE ROOM IS JUST FULL OF CORPSES??? WHICH I DIDNT KNOW HAPPENS???????? EVERYBODYS DEAD IN THERE

[voidycatboi]

I love playing sorcerer in elden ring because while most of the spells are simple projectiles there are also gems like the "squishing you with a comically large mallet" spell or the "hitting you on the head with a rock" spell