JUST A GIRL AND HER DOGS

The Camry is a silver XSE, Nightshade Edition, and the Challenger is a red Scat Pack!

gojo between work

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Ironhide, usually so stern, sitting before you inebriated and slightly relaxed from the aged gasoline. Though, his domineering presence hasn’t changed; he still watches you with a certain aptness. It’s almost suffocating.

And with the gasoline, his inhibitions are nulled.

You perch across from him on the top of a little truck left to rot in the yard, watching in moderate shock as he lowers a digit beneath your chin, lifting it. Your small hands grasp to the metal plating, face angled uncomfortably upward toward this creature who has given you nothing but grief since Optimus Prime assigned him as your Guardian.

As to be expected, you fuss at his touch.

“It’s odd how much you and your kind resemble Cybertronian females…” Ironhide gruffs quietly, more to himself than you. “Personalities are much the same, too.”

There is a facet of Ironhide (a very deep, very shameful facet) that ponders how far those similarities reach. Your beauty is best left untouched by him. But he thinks, and he thinks. Soft, supple skin; breasts that can be molded and manipulated; thread-like substance from your scalp (hair, he’s been told it’s called) that often brushes his facial plate when he lifts you to a shoulder; varying colors to the plushest parts of your body.

The differences in his kind and yours are nearly erotic to him.