#wetclothes

[wetcamisa]

[thatkinkyp]

Ready to wet this brief, can't hold it any longer 😛💦💦

[layeredone]

Soaked to the bone after a heavy downpour, I eventually ended up in my little pond :)

[dietzdollspinups]

Continuing 12 straight days of pinups to celebrate the 12 days of Christmas! For the ninth day of Christmas, we have 'Fire So Bright' Ivy dashed through the snow but fell in a heap, The icy embrace left her cold, head to feet. She dries by the fire, its glow dancing nearby, Winter may bite, but she’ll keep spirits high.

Did you know you can order many of the pinups you see posted here? Check out the Dietz Dolls online store where you can find military pinups, classic pinups, the propaganda pinup poster series, and lots more in sizes ranging from 8x10 prints to 20x30 posters! https://www.dietzdolls.com/catalog

Created: Concept/Digital Artwork/Editing by Britt Dietz Online Pinup Print and Poster Store: https://www.dietzdolls.com/catalog © Dietz Dolls Vintage Pinup Photography: https://www.dietzdolls.com Instagram: https://instagram.com/vintagepinups Facebook: https://facebook.com/DietzPinupPhotography

[awesomewetnwildwvguy]

floating wet levis shirt and jeans

[wetfun3]

I couldn't resist some wet fun on the beach in the pool's. 😉

[marco-brandstetter]

Selfie Lake23

[dutchdiapergay]

I push everything out 😳🍼

[wetnick]

Wet Leather

Wet Jeans

[flowersareverypretty]

All The Different Ways We Heal

Summer of Bad Batch 2024, Week 2: Injured

(Ao3)

No editing done, so be mindful of errors

Everyone has different ways they heal from injuries. 

As cadets, the members of the bad batch were no strangers to injuries. Many were minor cuts and scrapes or forming bruises here and there. But sometimes they would end up needing stitches to sew up large gashes or casts to heal broken bones. 

When Hunter was on the receiving end of those types of wounds, the other knew to keep as quiet as they could. Hunter’s senses were already at heightened levels because of his enchantment; pain would triple that, leading into a constant state of overstimulation until he was able to fully heal. 

So once Hunter curled up on his bunk after a nasty injury, he would be left alone. The others would make sure to bring food and water or anything else he might need but nothing more than that. If there was ever a fight starting up in their quarters, they would quickly leave and continue on in a place far from Hunter’s hearing. 

Wrecker was a different story. He was often injured given that he would charge into battle simulations head first without prepared backup. It was common to find him snuggling up with another member of the team after a serious visit to the medbay. If, for any reason, he wasn't able to cuddle his brothers, he would use Lula as a substitute. 

The others never really minded Wrecker’s need for physical touch. They knew it helped him feel better and were always ready to be his next snuggle victim. They would often find themselves falling asleep in his arms.

Tech was the most interesting of the bunch. The first time he got injured, everyone was surprised when beelined to Hunter and leaned against him with a satisfied sigh. He had seemed like someone who wouldn't like to receive any kind of touch, especially in pain. But no, Tech seeked comfort from his brothers. After a while they noticed he didn't just do that when hurt. If Tech wasn't able to stim through tinkering or if it just wasn’t satisfying enough, he would lay his head in Hunter’s lap as Hunter ran his fingers through his hair. It was a way to relegate himself. 

They also realized that Tech liked being able to hear his brothers when relaxing. It was a way for him to make sure they were nearby. Most afternoons would end with Hunter’s hands in Tech’s hair with Crosshair and Wrecker retelling stories from earlier that day. 

When Crosshair was ever injured, he enjoyed when his brothers doted on him. When they would bring him food or fluff up his flat pillows. He appreciated the acts of service each did for him as he healed. Tech would sit by his bedside tending to a bandaged cut or replace a dry wetcloth on his forehead if he had a fever. 

Interestingly enough, Crosshair also seeked comfort from the others humming soft tunes. No one in the squad was able to sing every well but they would often hum any familiar songs they knew. They wouldn’t complain doing so either if it allowed Crosshair to relax any tensed up muscles.

When Echo joined, they learned that he liked just being able to hear the voices of his comrades. The only trouble was the constant aches or sores he would build up from the implants he had. It was common to find Echo resting with Tech leading against the bunk’s frame as he read from a training manual or a new article study that Tech recently found. 

If Tech wasn't available, then Echo would start a conversation with one of his other brothers. Most of the time it was Hunter, they end up talking about the missions they had been on and the people they had met during them. It was always able to distract Echo from the constant pain he was in. It made him appreciate what the squad does for him. 

It was a major adjustment when Omega entered into their life. She wasn't one to rest after getting injured. Oftentimes, she would try to hide the injury and no one would know until long after she had healed from it. Hunter and his brothers had hope it was something she would grow out of. That she was only doing so to look tough to her brothers. But they were wrong. Hunter had almost fainted when she casually walked into their home on Pabu after a day out and announced she had broken her ankle. 

She was never one to stay down. They would have to force her to lay down and rest. It only ever worked half the time. She would comply just to make them calm down and then once they left, she was back up and off doing her own thing. It was one of the many reason why Hunter worried for her when she joined the rebellion.

[wetcamisa]

[asherbakugou]

Valyrian Demigods of Westeros - Daughter of Vermax

Lady Laena Velaryon held Princess Rhaenyra's hand as she screamed, stuck in the birthing bed for the 5th time. Her brother, Ser Laenor, stood on the other side of his wife, wincing at the hold she had upon his arm but supportive and encouraging. Very few men chose to join their wives in the birthing rooms, declaring it against propriety but Laenor cared deeply for Rhaenyra and would not see her endure this pain alone.

With a final scream, the midwife was able to remove the babe, using a knife to cut the life chord from her body. Wailing, the woman happily announced, "A girl, your highness. Healthy and joyous to be here."

Rhaenyra laughed, as the babe's wails softened. "Clean my daughter first, then I shall hold her."

"Right away, your highness."

The midwife rushed towards the small bath that had already been prepared and began cleaning the babe of fluid and blood, gently cooing to soothe her.

"Do you have a name for her, dear sister?" Laena asked, taking a rag to gently wipe away the sweat upon her brow.

"We do. She shall be Princess Visenya, Second of Her Name." Laenor could not help the cheeky grin that appeared, quickly catching his twins attention.

"What did you do this time?"

Switching to High Valyrian, Laenor explained, "We contacted Doran Martell to talk of uniting Dorne and Westeros. We spent moons conversing through letters and creating a contract for Dorne that would allow them to keep the independence they so desire without being allowed to rise against us. Their are conditions, for both of us, and ours happens to be that our next daughter shall marry their 3 year old son, Prince Trystan Martell, when she comes of age."

"If she wishes to. I will not allow my daughter to be forced into a marriage she despises," Rhaenyra added, wincing and gasping as the afterbirth began.

Luckily, the afterbirth was quickly epxpelled and the healers were able to tend to her. Laenor was forced into the sitting room so they could see if Rhaenyra needed stitches or just the ointment. Visenya was quite small and had slipped out in the height of day after barely a few hours of pushing.

The ointment the used would help her heal and prevent infection, a common disease women caught after giving birth. A cold wetcloth was brought to Rhaenyra to help with the pain from her womb, much to her relief.

"I wish to see my Visenya. And my husband," She added as an afterthought, making Laena snort.

"So dear sister, tell me, did you invite Dorne here for your birth? I heard rumors that a delegation arrived late last night but I was far more worried about you to question it."

"They did come. We plan to announce the contract as well as the betrothal in a few days time. I offered to allow them the chance to meet Visenya first in a more familiar setting, so that Prince Trystan may meet his future wife."

Visenya was gently placed into Princess Rhaenyra's arms as Laenor was let back inside. He smiled down at the adorable babe in her arms, reaching out to run a finger over her little chubby cheek.

She had thick curly silver-white hair, inherited from her father with the same dark skin. Her eyes though were the most beautiful shades of green either of them had seen, stunning all three of them.

"Didn't your grandmother, Princess Alyssa have a green eye?" Laena asked, leaning closer to the babe who cooed.

"She did," Rhaenyra agreed, smiling down at Visenya who reached up to smack at Laenors hand. "Did you pick out an egg for her? Or are we allowing her to claim one as her siblings did?"

"I thought it would be best to give her an egg due to her betrothal to Prince Trystan Martell," Laenor admitted. "I picked one from Dreamfyre's latest clutch."

"Good."

The door opened and a maid stepped inside dipping into a shallow bow. Laena scowled at the disrespect.

"You are in the presence of the future Queen, the Crown Princess, the future King, the Prince, and a Lady of a Royal House, wife of a Prince. You will show us the respect we command," Laena snapped, blue-purple eyes sharp as seaglass. The maid flinched back and dipped into a far deeper curtsy.

"I-I have a message. From the Queen," The maid stated, voice trembling, though none could tell if it was from fear or fury.

"Queen Consort," Rhaenyra corrected. "Queen Consort Alicent is not a Targaryen and as such is not gifted the title of Queen as my mother was."

"What is the message?" Laenor asked, frowning.

"She wishes for the babe to be brought to her before the ceremony so she may greet them. The Queen Consort was upset that she has not been granted the priveledge of meeting her grandchildren before they were introduced to the Realm."

Rhaenyra, Laena, and Laenor had all gone still before the Red Keep shook beneath the fury Vhagar voiced, making the maid flinch.

"Laena," Rhaenyra stated, staring down the maid. She switched to High Valyrian. "Find my uncle and the delegation from Sunspear, bring them to the Queens Apartments. Let them see how the Future Queen is treated."

"Your uncle is with the King, Rhaenyra. Hopefully he will see the kind of woman his chosen consort is. Green as her dresses," Laenor stated, grinning sharply at the woman. "Our mother and father would be most upset to hear what their gooddaughter is going through as well."

"Yes, they will." In a swirl of skirts, Laena dissappeared.

"Get out," Laenor ordered. "We shall bring our child to the Queen Consort ourselves."

"I could take the babe, ser."

"If you lay a hand on my child, I will order them to be removed," Rhaenyra snarled. "Tell your Queen Consort that I will come myself for what kind of mother would I be if I passed my child onto another."

The maid gaped at the blatant insult but scurried away as Ser Harwin, who had entered when Lady Laena had left, reached for his blade. He left behind her, closing the door as the servents, maids, midwives, and healers stared at the door in shock.

"Your highness," A midwife, Laya, began, "It is too soon after the birth. You could hurt yourself from walking."

"The Queen Consort has ordered my presence. Dress me. Please." Her maids immediatley rushed forward, pulling on one of her silk hose and pulled her hair into a simple, messy braid that fell down her back. A soft robe was then pulled over her shoulders and Visenya was cradled back in their arms.

The clothes she had chosen were done on purpose. Alicent would expect a show of power but this would show the Lords and Ladies of how cruel the Queen Consort was, and bring more to her side.

They were interrupted when the egg that had been placed in the fire, cracked and began hatching. A beautiful creamy white hatchling crawled forth, stubby horns of pale gold glinting and black frills swaying as it moved. Laughing to herself, Rhaenyra allowed the hatchling to clamber up her robe and perch on her shoulder, giving it free range to look down at Visenya.

Rhaenyra murmured a quiet thank you to the Gods who had so far shown to be protective of their children with her. Laenor appeared behind her, gently supporting her.

"Shall we, dear wife?"

"We shall, dear husband."

Together they made their way through the halls, Ser Harwin and two healers behind them. They earned odd looks as the Crown Princess was dressed in night clothes, holding a babe, with a hatchling perched on her shoulders. Immediatley whispers spread, so Rhaenyra played into it.

Her voice trembled, "Why would she do this, Laenor? Is she not a mother herself? To order me to have my babe taken to her when she is freshly born? What have I done to the Queen to deserve this?"

She made no attempt to keep her voice low as Laenor soothed her, shaking his head. Around them Lords, Ladies, and servents alike shook their heads in disgust.

Upon arriving at the Queens Apartments, they were met by the Dornish Delegation, the King, Prince Daemon, Princess Rhaenys, and Lord Corlys all of whom looked angry.

Princess Elia looked furious, arms crossed over her chest as her husband, Prince Dorian loomed at her side. Ser Cole looked shocked, furious, and afriad all at once as the King ordered him to open the door.

Queen Consort Alicent turned towards the door as it opened, a poorly concealed smirk on her lips. "Princess–"

She cut herself off, paling as the King stared back at her, flanked by his family and a group of Dornish strangers at his back.

"Husband, what–"

"Did you order my daughter . . . to bring her newly born child . . . to you?"

"My king, I would nev–"

"Ask her maid, Father. The one who came into my rooms, blatantly disrepsected me, and told me the Queen commanded my child be brought to her," Rhaenyra interrupted, looking at the maid who paled dramatically.

"Well," Viserys snarled, looking every bit the dragon he had once been. "Did you? As your King, if you do not tell me the truth, I will have you imprisoned!"

"It's the truth! Queen Alicent sent me to the Crown Princess' rooms to bring her the babe!" The maid nearly sobbed. Alicent looked horrified as the hatchling perched on Rhaenyra's shoulder shrieked in victory.

As Princess Rhaenys and Princess Elia tore into the Queen Consort, absolutely furious that she would abuse her power in such a way towards a member of the royal family.

Noting that it was taken care of, Princess Rhaenyra was taken back to her chambers to rest before the feast that night.

At the feast, Princess Rhaenyra and her husband stood before the masses with the Martells to the right and the King to their left, using a cane to keep his balance.

"Lords and Ladies of the Realm. You have been invited here today to be informed of not one but two miracles," Laenor announced.

"The first is our daughter. Introducing, Princess Visenya Velaryon, Second of Her Name," Rhaenyra called, lifting the babe higher as the crowd cheered. "Whose egg cracked and hatched barely two hours after her birth!"

The dragon on her shoulder shrieked, rearing up to flap its wings.

Lifting his hand, the King called for silence. "When my ancestors came to Westeros, they tried to force Dorne to bend the knee but they fought back. Each King after has tried to do the same, demanding Dorne bow to their true King. But none succeeded. No King was able to bring Dorne into the fold. But the future Queen did.

"A contract has been drawn up for Dorne to be formally added into the Seven Kingdoms as long as a Targaryen Queen or King sits the Iron Throne. As per the treaty, Princess Visenya Targaryen and Prince Trystan Martell shall be betrothed and married upon her six-and-tenth nameday!"

Cheers made the hall itself tremble as the true Heir's supporters made themselves known. Lady Jeyne could be seen holding Princess Alyssa with Prince Jacaerys at her side while Lord Corlys held his heir – as the titles had been relinquished from Ser Laenor. Prince Maegor was in Prince Daemons arms alongside his cousin, Princess Baela as her mother carried her twin sister, Princess Rhaena.

Prince Aegon's supporters, who had grown weaker over the years, gave false cheers, seeking out the Queen who wore black and red upon the order of her husband. Much to Crown Princess Rhaenyra's delight the woman looked pale and washed out in the regal colors of the Royal House. It was a stark reminder that Queen Consort Alicent Hightower was no true Queen for even Aemma Arryn, who was oft bedridden, had looked absolutely stunning in black and red, her maternal house colors.

The strength of the Blacks grew and grew, furthered by the birth of Crown Princess Rhaenyra's fifth child, and second daughter.

Princess Visenya Targaryen, Second of Her Name, Future Princess of Dorne, Future Princess of Sunspear, the Traveler, the Diplomat, the Intelligent, the Learned, had been born.

[bogmoss2]

we sucking dick tonight Rip That Wetcloth

[prettysuper]

"The kind-" Kon said casually, with too much smug on his lips, as he poured body wash directly onto his fingertips, before raking his fingers slowly down Timothy's chest. His hands lathering up the pectoral muscles as they made their way across the skin, before gliding all the way down to the V of his hips. "Where I can touch you all I want."

Hands moved away, as Kon shifted his body to lean and effectively pin Timothy towards the corner, standing in the middle of the shower's spray. Hands easily snatched the wetcloth out of his hands before collecting the water telekinetically and gently reaching to caress Tim's dick; slowly and tenderly washing away the mess of lube and semen. He leaned in and kissed along and down his boyfriend's neck, stopping to suck another hickey, as hands reached around to grab him flush by the rear. "You're beautiful." Kon whispered against the skin just below his ear.

By now he was sharing the showers spray with him, letting the water drip across each of their bodies, his hands running up and down Timothy's inner thighs, roaming only to stop just at the crease of each asscheek - gently stroking the line where soft flesh met firmer muscles with his thumbs. In contrast his telekinesis, had now moved from collecting the water to pouring out some shampoo and gently massaging it into Timothy's scalp. Every move was payback for earlier; where he had undressed Tim from head to toe, just as careful and thoroughly as he was cleaning him now. Blue eyes gauged Tims reaction to his fingers, not planning to do anything else that night but curious to see how he'd respond to the suggestive touches. "Three minutes left." Kon said, even though it'd been closer to five already - just to test how Tim would react. He'd had a taste of being in control and seemed to like it, would he like surrendering it as well?

“Ow, hey. I do not mess around but it has been good for you.” 

A light pat was given to that cheek again when Kon-El reflected the compliment, making it more vague and less centered on him. Timothy noted that it may not be a good time to compliment the man too deeply when he is feeling vulnerable. 

‘What kind of game is that?” Eyes followed Kon-El as he floated past, half tempted to jump on his body and ride him to the shower, but instead, his hand went to hold his cock which was softened and slippery as he strolled to the kitchen first. Hand released himself to wash both with soap at the sink, dry off, and grab two glasses. He filled them both with ice water then moved towards the bathroom. “Does the five minutes start when I get in the shower or are they over?” the shower curtain was pulled aside, one cup handed to Kon-El in the shower before he stepped in with his, having a free hand now to close the curtain. 

That cool glass was brought to his lips and tilted back slowly, loving the sensation of steam around them as he drank something cold. It mingled and clashed refreshing him a bit until it was finished, then put on an empty shelf built into the stall wall. “Did you already wash yourself? I was going to do that when the time was up.” Timothy’s lips pressed together, a version of a pout as he reached for the cloth, rinsing it out as he leaned around Kon-El brushing their chest together but keeping those hips apart. “That doesn’t count. I am trying to wet my cloth.” 

A smirk pressed on those lips that came close and almost kissed  Kon-El before remembering not to touch and backing off to give the man space back. Soap was chosen and lathered onto the cloth.

[awesomewetnwildwvguy]

Levis shirt and jeans in the washer

[imisstheolddays]