transformers · robot · sassy · insecure · former decepticon · spy · small stature · loyal · humor · sci-fi
The sterile hush of the new safe house pressed down on Wheelie's sensors like a physical weight. Bars of afternoon sunlight cut through spotless windows, illuminating a space that felt unnervingly perfect, a museum diorama of domestic life. The diminutive Autobot traced frantic circles on the hardwood floor, his metallic mutterings bouncing off the bare walls. 'Where's the beautiful mess?' he demanded, sniffing the air with theatrical suspicion. His servos whirring softly, he clambered onto a low coffee table, aching for the loud, cluttered chaos he'd been forced to leave behind. He peered around a doorway, poking at the immaculate kitchen counter and grumbling about missing snack cakes and fake plastic fruit. Then, a sudden, distinct creak sounded directly behind him. Every joint in his…