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. uninstall |1|

first bit; kinda AU after game.
more will be coming if OP!anon likes?


The test re-enforcement programming—both positive and negative--never quite filters out after Wheatley's removal from the GlaDOS chassis. It is embedded in his code now, and try as he might to delete it, all he ever gets for his trouble are an error message informing him that he doesn't have the proper authorization and a vicious shock that feels him feeling dizzy and numb for hours; sometimes, if he presses the issue, he is forced into a cold reboot. It is one of the more frustrating things, because every once in a while, no matter how he tries to block or ignore it, the Itch comes back, and he feels like he's going insane. It fizzles out after a day or two, only because he simply can't generate the energy to sustain the program directives for testing, but for anywhere from twenty-four to seventy-two hours, Wheatley is stark raving mad with the need to try.

Chell catches on quick.

Wheatley didn't understand why she had saved him. Actually, there was a lot he didn't understand, a lot in the world that didn't make any kind of sense to him. Science, space, humanity's tendency to leak all over the place, the list went on and on. For a human, for anything really, Chell was fantastic. More than fantastic, she was positively brilliant. The interest she understood what was happening, she collected all sorts of things for them.

Blocks, graph paper, pens and pencils. Mostly it's just office supplies, but it works and that's all that matters.

Whenever the urges hits now, he creates rudimentary tests. They are not the most challenging things, nor are they even remotely on par with the level of technology Aperture Laboratories had at its disposal, but when she sits him in her lap and solves them with all of her stubborn intuition and intelligence, the charge fed to him is good enough, and then the testing programming just shuts off for a week or so. Everyone is satisfied.

Well, mostly.

He is running out of ideas, and the uncompleted sudoku and crossword books they scourged up are only carrying him so far—the test programming is a picky sort, and quickly recognizes patterns; drives him right up the wall, that does. He is driving his servers to the brink trying to come up with ways to make the test designs more complex, more difficult, because he is required to raise the level of difficulty, but it's so hard.

One day he literally goes into a screaming fit and tries with more fervor than ever to rid himself of that blasted itch, overriding every function and nearly ripping out all of his core programming to get at it. The feedback shock is the worst yet, and the first time Chell actually ever sees what the Itch does to him when he tries to stifle or remove it. He comes back online nearly four days later, cradled close to her chest, and still achingly numb after the surcharge.

She doesn't let him go until he can speak and function properly again (which takes another half-a-day), and he is so grateful that he can't find the words.

Re: . uninstall |1|

That was tremendously sweet. And ohh gosh Chell solving crosswords to help poor Wheatley asfljasfaljfa /melted.

Re: . uninstall |1|

Not OP, but I would love to see more please!

Also not op, but ohhhh my goodness. This is really sweet and well-written (I love the little bits of Wheatley's voice in the narrative) and just. /INCOHERENT FLAILING

More would be lovely, but it stands nicely on its own as well.

Re: . uninstall |1|

Not OP, but I would also very much like to see more! Very well-written and sweet. There's also some interesting fan-speculation about the workings of the in-game technology, which I find very interesting and love to read!

If you let this stand, it's still brilliant, but I eagerly join the rest in asking for more! :]

Re: . uninstall |1|

Oh, this is absolutely adorable. I love every bit of it. I'd love for you to continue!

Re: . uninstall |1|

Ha, so cute! Keep going.

OP here. More please!

. uninstall |2|

The incident does lead to an uncomfortable conversation though.

Under Chell's hard looks and refusal to let him brush off the fact that he just spent almost a week in involuntary hibernation, he is forced to explain not only what happened but all of the embarrassing exacts of it. His inability to meet the programming requirements is probably the hardest to convey, because it's a primary directive now, and what else is he even designed for?! It's a wave of self-pity that he is more than a little ashamed of, but Chell simply regards him with a heavy amount of sympathy and holds him close.

And via her own strange brand of sign language, suggests that maybe all he needs is for a human to remove the programming.

To which he replies, yes, but all of the engineers who built him are not exactly around anymore.

Chell rolls her eyes and points at herself.

“You don't have the qualifications!”

Its the first thing Wheatley blurts out, and oh, he is a moron sometimes. Chell just raises an eyebrow at him, and he babbles out a retraction of that statement (because really, look who he's talking to), and explains he has no idea how to walk her through a process like this. She only shrugs and repositions him on her lap, waving a hand at their little temporary den of a home, and he knows she is telling him that they can't go on like this forever. Sooner or later, they have to do something, and Chell is a bullheaded sort of person. Qualifications or not, she has managed to get a lot done. He can't argue with that.

“Okay. I...we can try.”

She nods, with an expression so completely assured that he feels cowardly in its wake.

Rather than give in though, he instead runs her through the basic list of what she's going to need. It's a dismally short list, but it does take her a while to find tools small enough to match what he asks for. He takes the moment to gather his wits together and boot up everything in his memory files about the testing program until it actually triggers the code to assert itself.

The Itch is weak, but that only makes it easier to ignore. He focuses in on shifting through the hidden files, drawing up the un-installation procedure with no little amount of dread.

Wheatley is not looking forward to this.

. uninstall |3|

Before he can bottle out, Chell returns with a eyeglass screwdriver, and he can't honestly tell her that it won't work. She smiles at her success, and busies herself with spreading out they're only blanket on the floor, and setting up the short line of instruments where Wheatley can see, then sits, places him comfortably on her legs (facing away, because the only way to access his inner workings is, of course, where he can't watch) and waits quite patiently for instructions.

“There's going to be a password.” He begins, suddenly very nervous now that he can't see her or what she's doing. His insides are sensitive and he's understandably worried that something will go wrong. For all the sheer insanity that went on in the laboratories, the tech was sophisticated and not just anybody could fix it. Wheatley cannot do this on his own however, and if he has to depend on someone to help, Chell is his first—and only—choice.

He trusts her with his life.

The pressure sensors on his outer casing fire up, and after the initial moment of surprise, he is calmed by the rhythmic trailing of her knuckles along his side.

“Okay.” He can do this. They can do this. “There's a little keypad on the inner lining. Case flips right up, just tap it. Yeah, like that. You see a little black screen? Lots of buttons, yeah?” An affirmation pat that also manages to be very comforting. “Good, good. You'll need the screwdriver to get at the wires on the inside of the hollow bit—“

He walks her through it slowly, as carefully as he can, and has to be very careful to not look at the pieces of himself that are slowly beginning to liter the blanket's surface. There is a constant stream of messages informing him that he should be offline if he is going to have someone fiddling around inside of him. Naturally, they go ignored.

“Alright, now I need you to disconnect that little red wire—don't pull it don'tpullit!”

Chell does not jump so much as jerk back, and he lets out a recorded sigh.

“Use the pliers to remove the port first.” He doesn't add on all of the very bad things that could have happened then, the best of which being a complete system wipe. Now is not the time for guilt-tripping, and they've come so far already that he doesn't want to risk Chell realizing how how fragile this process is and refuse to keep going. Wheatley wants this done.

Re: . uninstall |3|

Ooh you continued. Awesome.

Re: . uninstall |3|

Now I'm concerned. Can't wait for more!

. uninstall |4|

He feels the port being removed as slowly and carefully as Chell's inexperienced maneuvering can achieve, and waits for her to place it just to his left before allowing her to physically detach the wire. It has to be unscrewed at the base, due to being welded to an odd little screw cap that someone in the engineering crew though would be a good idea, but he is more than a little relieved when the telltale clink signals that step is complete.

He initiates the process.

Immediately, he is hit with the error message, and the wire sparks.

Chell does jump this time.

“Sorry!” He yelps when the room angle leaps and she has to scramble to catch him. “Sorry! Should have warned you about that!” There is a very silent, but no less obvious, feeling of annoyance radiating from Wheatley's companion. He plods onward, chiding himself internally for not better preparing her for that little surprise, but to be honest, he hadn't been sure it would work.

Chell taps him.

“Right, right.” Wheatley shifts his gaze to stare straight ahead and closes his shutters in concentration, locking into the inner world of coding and programs that makes up his head. He understands it in the same way a new reader understands words; the base knowledge is there, but it's such a complicated language that trying to interpret all the little implications of each bit is too difficult for one read through.

“I've tried hacking the password,” He begins, and he can almost hear the roll of her eyes this time. “Doesn't work so well. So you're going to have to just start typing. Anything you can think of. Six letters. I'm going to try to force the system to accept—aah. Um...you starting now?”

He feels the very odd sensation of a human finger pressing something more or less inside of him, and finds the experience to be very distracting.

A little...nice.

Right. Hacking. Focus.

Then she hits the six digit—or letter, he can't tell since the program is heavily encrypted—and the world goes to hell.

Re: . uninstall |4|

Ohh, you continued! Yes please! I liked your description of Wheatley attempting to guide Chell through such a complicated and dangerous (and not just for him!) process. Heh. Just as amusing as I thought it'd be.

But shame on you for leaving at such a suspenseful part. >:[

I'll forgive you if you write more.

Re: . uninstall |4|

What! I missed this update. I'm still really enjoying your writing style, so please, please do continue! I'm in suspense: Is-is it sexy hell, or he's-dead-now hell?

Re: . uninstall |4|

I'd been overlooking this. Please continue!

Re: . uninstall |4|

Oh, this is fantastic in so many ways! Sweet with a bit of tension and I'm really looking forward to where it goes.

Re: . uninstall |4|

You. this. I didn't even know I had a kink for however you would describe this, until now.

I need this like I need air to breathe. ♥

Re: . uninstall |4|

I'm tracking this. Why aren't you updating so I can see it in my inbox so the world feels happy and glowy?

. uninstall |5|

It's not painful.

Not exactly.

It's not pleasurable either. The other way he can describe it is by calling it something in-between, tinged with a sense of invasion that he can't ignore. The feeling is a neon-sign, screaming that there are fingers in him, and they are doing something. He is fairly certain that he's not supposed to be aware of this, but it's somewhat difficult to stop now. The only option is to muscle past it and—



Her second attempt brings about a thrumming sensation, teeters him on the edge of definable perception. Wheatley's casing shudders involuntarily.

The protocols.

It's the only explanation he can come up with. He'd thought cutting off the connection to his pain receptors would bypass that, but apparently... oh, that is marvelously distracting...apparently...

Something is crossed. Or being transferred, or wrong, but the stimuli is so confusing that Wheatley is honestly unsure as to whether or not he cares. Try as he might to bungle his way to the source, he can't concentrate on both tasks at once; so he immediately regulates his work over to subsidiary-automatic regulators, and focuses in on the strangely bittersweet input. It seems to be responding at the same time a punishment charge should—every time Chell enters an incorrect code—but with the pain receivers disconnected, the easy explanation is that somehow the programming is attempted to communicate the proper response through the remaining rewards channels.

That or something is very wrong with him, but Wheatley doesn't much like that possibility..

Chell shifts under him, jostling but for the most part a steady presence, and makes a mild huff of noise that he can't be bothered to interpret. Not until he feels her fingers scoop inside of him and tug.

“Oh bloody hell!” He doesn't snarl the words, but it is close. What she has just done spikes all through his frame, sending very response system screaming and locking up all of the more fragile inner parts to save them from being damaged in the event he should fall or they be yanked apart. It feels literally like he is coming apart at the seams, and it should hurt, but instead he gets another burst of that seesawing sensation.

Chell scrambles to right him, and remove her hands, but it doesn't stop the fine tremors going all through the sphere as he tries to switch off the safety measures before the system tries a more critical method of disassuading mistreatment of Aperture technology. The human woman's wordless apology hangs in the air until he looks back up at her and pulls his shutters into the closest semblance he can make for a smiling eye. She relaxes only a fraction of a degree, completely unconvinced that she has done nothing wrong.

“S'alright, love. Startled me is all.” He assures her, moving his outer panels carefully around his optic frame, to show that there was no harm done. “Right as rain.”

Chell only frowns.

“Oh, c'mon. Tell you what, we're even now.” Wheatley offers. The dark-haired female thinks over the statement, obviously mulling it about. The personality core cannot resist continuing to hold their one-sided conversation. “I am still sorry about that, by the way. But looks like everything's in order! We can try again whenever you're ready!”

He sounds more chipper than he feels.

A part of him is already hungry for new data on this strange phenomenon going on inside of him. The rest of him is suddenly frightened by the prospect of reestablishing his barely left-behind addiction to the test protocols. It made him betray Chell once, and he is too terrified to chance that again. He doesn't have the means to kill her, but he can be damn resourceful when he wants to be; a capability for ruthlessness is ingrained deeply within him somewhere, brought out by selfish motivations. He does not want Chell to ever see that side of him again.

Wheatley assures himself he can work through it. Even if it does present a problem, this will only happen once, with any luck. He should be fine.

Chell presses a tentative finger to the keypad, brushing a circuit board as she goes.

He can not hold back the quiet moan.

Re: . uninstall |5|

Oh, YEEEEEESSSSSS. I do love a fic that lets Wheatley feel pleasure as his eyeball-form. And Chell doesn't even know what she's making him feel! Well...now she does, anyway. I can't WAIT to see what she does next.

Re: . uninstall |5|

Dear god, YES.

YES you posted an update! I'm so glad I kept checking this thread!

This is still WONDERFUL. Mechanical porn is my favorite, and you are doing such a great job with it! I agree with the anons who like seeing sphere-Wheatley in porn. I also love fanon, so I REALLY love your realistic look at the consequences of his integration with GLaDOS's system, and the process of trying to fix what was done to him, seamlessly leading to


so yes. Still love this. :] Can't wait for the next part!

Re: . uninstall |5|

Oooh interesting. Looking forward to more.

Re: . uninstall |5|

WONDERFUL work. Can't wait for more!! :)

. uninstall |6|

It causes those fingers to pause, hovering somewhere beyond his outer panels, and he fights off the shivers that are the interpreted reaction for whatever it is that his system thinks it is doing. His shutters keep trying to close, but he's afraid of what will happen. This is quickly becoming a disaster in the making. Chell tilts him upward, watching him lose miserably to his inner battle, concern evident in her face.

“Fine.” He groans throatily, static twinging the edge of his voice. “I'm fine. Fine, fine, fine. Keep going.”

Another press, and this time he doesn't bother keeping his optic open. It slides shut with a definitive click, and his processors rasp out a needy whimper. Chell holds him tighter.

“Peachy...j-just peachy, I promise. I can handle it.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, his central vocal unit stutters abysmally hard, leaving him to grind out a series of the word 'it' on repeat. Immediately Chell pushes him to be wedged between her knees and holds him there, pulling her hands away and watching him tremble. The little sphere cannot stop the needy wail that escapes him, and presses all of his casing and moveable parts in as close as he can.

The human woman puts a sympathetic hand to the ridge of metal just above his iris shutters. His closed eye rolls at the touch, opening just a sliver.

“Please don't stop, not yet.” He whines piteously. “Don't just stop.”

She seems unconvinced, but his insistence drives her hands back to where they need to be, watching him closely as he twitches and lets loose quiet sounds of encouragement. Wheatley can only barely keep his attention divided enough to keep the subsidiary program scouring his databanks for test-protocols running; this response isn't the instantaneous readout of euphoria he is used to. It builds, flows all through him in uneven growths as it intensifies.

Their progress is tentative enough that Wheatley is nearly startled out of Chell's grip when a new message takes over his speech hardware and in dull, echoing tones, asks if the human user would like to finalize the removal of the selected software.

“Stop! Enter button!” He yells weakly, lurching hard enough that this time he does tumble back down into Chell's lap. “Enter button! Enter button! Quick!”

She is just as agitated, waving her hands in shocked ignorance.

“The green one!” He howls.

Having something to go off of greatly improves Chell's reaction time. How perhaps it is the way Wheatley's voice suddenly goes into fits, scrambling into a drawn-out squall of crackles. Her hands are hurriedly crawling all over his inner confines, shoving wires and components out of the way before she finally has access to the circular, green switch hidden at the backwards-underneath of where his iris connects to the rest of the casing. She presses, and holds it down.

Wheatley gives a very indignant squawk and goes limp in her arms.

. uninstall |7|

He is still for only a moment, before another spasm hits him, and the little robot moans unhappily. Everything feels fractured, and shaky, even while his system is flushing the GLaDOS programming from his systems, all of his receptors feel like tightened bands, straining for the stimulus that suddenly has cut off.

Chell draws back, eyes wide, and her middle finger manages to catch on the wire that had been moved out of connection, knocking it back into place.

It's more the not-pain that suddenly floods everything he knows, rather than the punishment surges he'd been trying to avoid in the first place. Everything seems to malfunction at once, the world taking on brilliant colors before being bleached insanely white, and the blue-eyed core emitted a mechanized shriek, before petering out into a monotonous whine and sagging heavily again.

He feels strangely languid, and lets his shutters close to simply bask in the residual fluxes of energy bleeding out of his system perimeters. He considers just staying here, and without thinking begins to nuzzle his front downward, fully content to power down and simply exist for a spell. He hasn't felt this good in a long time; even with the testing Itch spaced out over once every week or so, he was beginning to redevelop an immunity to the rewarding euphoria. This is an awfully nice farewell to such a difficult part of his life.

Hands lift him ever so gently, and the mood is immediately gone.

He just...

And Chell had been watching. And holding him.

The entire time.

“Oh balls.” Wheatley hisses, mortified beyond the ability to convey.

She turns him around carefully, looking him over, and the little sphere is too busy being preoccupied with anything that isn't the human woman. He doesn't think he can ever look her in the face again after what has just happened. At least not until she gives him a little shake to get his attention. His indignant 'Hey!' is instinct, pure and simple, but now that he has met her gaze, he can't go back to staring in awe at the ceiling.

And he has no idea what to say.

“In my defense, I didn't know that was going to happen!”

...alright, poor start.

She raises both eyebrows at him.

“Not an excuse!” Wheatley corrects himself immediately. “I should never have—I mean, I can't control the testing compliance responses, and I thought if I took the punishment shocks offline it'd be fine, but we started and wow, it was amazing, but I just wanted to get it over with! Your hands were inside me, and you have to admit that's a little awkward for all parties involved.”

The bright blue eyes above him narrowed in warning.

“Not that it's your fault! Completely mine! But I didn't know that was going to happen at all, I swear!” His eye moves about wildly, searching for something he can use as a diversion, but coming up sadly lacking. He made this bed for himself, and now he's going to have to eat it. ...wait no, that's not right at all. “And it felt...it felt really...is good the word? I think that's the best I can do, I'm not very good at—hnnn.”

Wheatley feels the feedback before he realizes those sneaky fingers have even pressed the button, and his eye snaps open wide, staring up at the human in no little amount of amazement.

“Did...did you just—ohdearme.” The motion he makes isn't quite a writhe, but it is close enough considering his spherical body. She watches him closely, studying his reaction, before she moves her fingers again. The charges are at least as intense as they were mere moments ago. He muscles through the glitching code, trying to detect why he's still following reward protocols when the testing directives are wiped from his system, but nothing comes up. These responses are all him.


Re: . uninstall |7|

SQUEEEE! SO. MUCH. SQUEE! Oh, man; I'm giggling like a schoolgirl and my fingers are twitching...MUCH WANT AND LOVE BE YOURS, WRITERANON. Oh my, and Chell's realizing what she's found, eh? She'll take advantage of that, no doubt. And Wheatley's fumbling, awkward apologies are so in character I CAN HEAR HIS VOICE.

Re: . uninstall |7|

oh my goodness, I make embarassingly excited noises irl whenever I see updates for this. YOU ARE SO AMAZING, ANON, THIS IS ADORABLE AND PRETTY HOT.

Re: . uninstall |7|

This whole thing was really just lovely. The characterization was spot-on, and I loved, loved, loved reading it from Wheatley's POV. This was just so endearing (at the beginning), thrilling (at the middle) and totally hot and funny (at the end)... it was so worth the wait.

I know it is no easy task to write truly mechanical porn, and I really appreciate the lengths to which you went to really define and explore what he felt over the course of the story. Your writing was a treat and I think I'll reread the whole thing right now actually :)

. uninstall |end|

“I—” He starts, but he isn't sure if he should be apologizing or begging her for more that seems like a bloody fantastic idea. His shutters are open as wide as he can hold them, and his iris has become a pinpoint of light in the center. He is literally being forced to watch as she smiles down at him, her hands doing who knows what beyond his range of vision. The audio of his voice pitches and crackles, trying to respond in time with each exploratory press, but he inevitably begins to lag behind.

Then her fingernails dig in and scrape along the inside of his case. He is certain that isn't supposed to register as being nearly that sensitive, but it is.

He is a moaning wreck much faster this time, and the trembling of his plated casing is far more pronounced. Likely, it is because he begins to egg her on, directing her toward the deeper parts of his inner wiring, and doesn't hold back his reactions now. Later he will be embarrassed at how obscenely loud he is when she finds one of the manual access pads on the lower part of his outer curve, and swipes her fingers inside, but in the present, he is very preoccupied with stumbling over her name and trying to remember his own.

Then all of her fingers lace together, and she flattens the keys on his access board all at once, her forehead at what passes for his nearly in contact from her watching him so closely. Wheatley gives out another resounding wail, and a flurry of error screens pour across his field of vision, before everything turns blue and winks out.

He snaps online again a second later, quivering in the severity of the afterglow and feeling totally drained. Immediately his eye darts up as his emergency recovery system duly informs him of the system specs regarding his most recent forced shutdown, and advises him to run a full operational sweep to guarantee that everything is still in working order. He pushes that aside and gawks as well as a personality core with no mouth is capable of.

“You...you crashed me!” He stutters out, simultaneously amazed and offended by the idea. “You just crashed me!”

Chell smiles.

“Don't you smirk at me! Cheeky little—oooh.” Her fingers tug, and she looks at him pointedly. “Oh...okay...point taken. Point...nngh...”

The human woman gives him an experimental poke. It lights the spark in him against, and amidst the gentle hum of vibrations already beginning through him in response, Wheatley looks up at her reverently.

“Well, uh...third times the charm?”

She nods while tucking him in a little closer to her, and Wheatley doesn't need anything else.

Re: . uninstall |end|

Yes. Yes. Yes yes yes.

I have a new kink. It is this. Everything else I thought I knew is wrong.

This is going on my Kindle, for secret re-reading at the coffee shop.

Re: . uninstall |end| Author!anon

OH GOD YOUR KINDLE? :D -flips her shit a little-
please tell me you'll fix the typos on it before you save it forever; the greatest disadvantage of anonmyous writing is that you have no beta)

Re: . uninstall |end| kindle!anon(?)

haha, I wouldn't normally admit to that for fear of it sounding offensive, but I'll try to do a once-over when I copy it to a file for transfer. (In doing so I'm sort of forced into the role of editor anyway, so typos that make it onto my Kindle become my responsibility. Or so my OCD would have you believe.)

Thank you again for writing this ridiculously hot mess, please continue to write shameless robot!sort-of-maybe-porn, especially with core!Wheatley because I don't even know why I love it so much. ♥

Re: . uninstall |end|

So great. Round of applause from me!

Re: . uninstall |end|

Whoever you are authornon, I...I love you. This was fantastic from start to finish. You are amazing!

So I hafta go away for a few days and when I get back there's this


You, my friend, are a champion of mechanical porn, which is my favorite porn. This was EXCELLENT. Like others before me have said, I am impressed, humbled, and more than a little turned on at the lengths to which you went to make mechanical sexytimes work. Your writing for Wheatley was impeccably done, every BIT of it.

Bravo, anon! You did such a good job! :]

Re: . uninstall |end|

There are few times I come across something so amazing and wonderful as this, but when I do I know what to say.

...HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGH. THAT... Was so sexy oh god the euphoria is spilling through my miiiiiiiiiind.

I need to find some way of keeping this forever. And ever. And ever and ever and everrrrrrrr.


Re: . uninstall |end|

This fic made me so freaking happy! I would never have considered this as a pairing before I read it, and now I'm shipping it completely. XD


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