System Alert: Heart Overheating
Pairing: Keebo x Reader
Genre: Slow Burn, Fluff, Comedy, Confession
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Some swearing (Miu), secondhand embarrassment, romantic robot anxiety, meddling Miu Iruma, lots of fluff, awkward love confession buildup
Summary: Keebo knows his systems are malfunctioning, and the cause is you. Every time you speak to him, his processor stutters. Every glance overheats his emotional circuits. Determined to confess his feelings (but deeply terrified of failure), he enlists Miu Iruma for help.
(Obligatory poorly drawn Keebo)
The workshop smelled of solder and metal shavings. Tools clinked and whirred on cluttered benches, illuminated by the harsh glare of a single overhead light.
Keebo shifted awkwardly on his feet, his cool metal fingers fiddling with a loose wire on his forearm. His synthetic heart beat in an irregular rhythm he couldn’t quite compute.
Keebo was certain of one thing: his system was malfunctioning.
Whenever you were near, his core processor spiked to dangerous temperatures, his voice modulation skewed into awkward pitches, and worst of all, his carefully programmed responses scrambled into nonsense.
Miu Iruma was tinkering with a small drone when Keebo entered, nerves practically crackling off his chassis.
“Miu,” he said, voice slightly higher than usual. “I require your assistance with… emotional diagnostics.”
Miu’s goggles slid down her nose as she peered at him. “Whoa, whoa, slow down, bolt-boy. What kind of emotional meltdown are we talking here?”
Keebo shifted. “I’m experiencing repeated surges of an irregular emotional pattern centered on an individual I identify as "[Name}." It appears to be… affection.”
Miu’s eyes sparkled. “Affection? Like, love love?”
Keebo nodded. “Affirmative. My algorithms indicate feelings consistent with romantic interest, but I am unsure how to process them properly.”
Miu grinned wide. “Ohhh! So you’ve got it bad, huh? Don’t worry, I got you covered! I’m basically the love guru around here.”
Keebo’s optical sensors flickered. “I would appreciate any assistance.”
“Step one: You gotta stop acting like a malfunctioning toaster and grow some guts.” Miu threw down a wrench for emphasis.
Keebo gulped... if he could.
“I need to confess my feelings,” he said.
Miu’s grin grew devilish. “Perfect! Let’s set the stage for the greatest confession ever.”
For the next hour, Miu crafted a spectacle.
She strung heart-shaped paper lanterns along the rec room walls, arranged flower petals in a giant arrow pointing at a makeshift stage constructed from crates and old pillows, and hooked up her tablet to play an intense playlist of cheesy romantic songs.
Keebo’s head servo twitched anxiously.
“Y/N’s gonna be so surprised,” Miu said, adjusting a sign that read: KEEBO LOVES Y/N!
Keebo’s eyes widened. “Is that really necessary?”
Miu scoffed. “Dude, yes. Subtlety is overrated.”
When you arrived, led by some curious classmates, your eyes grew wide at the scene.
Keebo tried to steady himself on the crate edge, clutching a small handheld microphone.
He cleared his throat, voice cracking before he could speak.
“Y/N,” he started, “my data is inconclusive but my emotional feedback indicates…”
His voice faltered and his cooling fans whirred loudly, betraying his panic.
The audience shifted, giggling.
Suddenly, Keebo bolted off the stage, his servos squeaking as he hid behind a pillar.
Miu rolled her eyes and muttered, “Classic.”
Later, Keebo slumped by the workbench, voice barely above a whisper.
Miu plopped down beside him. “You chickened out. Big time.”
Keebo hung his head. “I was overwhelmed.”
“You’re a robot,” Miu snapped. “No excuses.”
Keebo sighed. “I need a simpler plan.”
Miu grinned. “Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty more attempts left.”
And so, the slow, awkward dance of confession began.
The morning sun filtered softly through the academy’s windows, casting a warm glow over the cafeteria. Students chattered and laughed over their breakfasts, while Keebo sat at a corner table, nervously clutching a small folded note.
Miu bounded over, goggles perched on her forehead, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
“Alright, toaster boy! Round two. We’re going casual today. No grand stages or cheesy signs, just you, Y/N, and some genuine words.”
Keebo blinked, scanning his internal databases for protocols on “genuine words.” “Understood. I will do my best.”
Miu clapped her hands. “That’s the spirit! Now, watch and learn.” She marched over to a group of students and started chatting animatedly, showing Keebo how to keep things light and natural.
After a few minutes of coaching, Keebo took a deep mechanical breath and stood, the folded note clenched tightly in his hand.
He spotted you sitting alone near the window, reading quietly.
“Y/N,” he began, voice calm but tinged with uncertainty.
You looked up, offering a warm smile. “Hey, Keebo! What’s up?”
He hesitated, then unfolded the note, clearing his throat.
“I wanted to tell you that your presence increases my system efficiency and emotional stability,” he said, trying to sound casual.
You blinked, tilting your head. “Uh… thanks?”
Keebo’s optical sensors flickered nervously.
“Um… what I mean is—I like you. A lot.”
Your cheeks flushed faintly, but you smiled gently.
“That’s… really sweet, Keebo.”
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the kitchen area, startling both of you.
Keebo’s circuits scrambled as he blurted out, “Error! Unexpected interruption! Must… must reboot confidence!”
He hastily bowed and dashed away, leaving you blinking in confusion.
Later, Miu cornered him near the workshop.
“You’re killing me, Keebo! You had one job: be chill.”
Keebo sighed. “I am more comfortable with clear, structured protocols. Spontaneity is… difficult.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. But love’s messy, man. You gotta just roll with it.”
Keebo’s processors whirred. “I will try.”
And so the slow, glitchy dance continued.
The library was quiet, the soft rustling of pages and muted footsteps providing a calm backdrop. You and Keebo sat side-by-side at a long wooden table, textbooks spread before you.
Keebo’s servo motors emitted a soft whir as he flipped through his notes, trying to focus. But every time you glanced at him or smiled, his circuits stuttered.
He took a deep breath, or at least as deep as his artificial lungs could manage.
“I have been meaning to speak with you,” he began, voice tentative. “There is… something important I wish to convey.”
You looked up from your book, curious.
Keebo’s optical sensors locked on your eyes.
A sudden loud crash from a nearby shelf caused both of you to jump.
Keebo’s processors overloaded.
“I’m sorry, I must… delay my confession.”
You laughed softly. “Maybe next time, Keebo.”
Later, Miu found him pacing near the workshop.
“You’re close, man! I can see it. Just gotta believe in yourself.”
Keebo nodded, resolve hardening. “I will prepare.”
Miu tossed a wrench onto the workbench with a loud clank. Keebo stood stiffly in the middle of the workshop, shoulders slumped, cooling fans whirring louder than usual.
“I tried,” he said softly.
“You tried?” Miu stalked toward him, eyes blazing behind her goggles. “You tried three times and choked every single one.”
Keebo looked down. “I malfunction under pressure.”
“No, you malfunction under feelings!” she snapped, jabbing his chest plate with a finger. “You’ve got it bad and you know it, Keeboy. So what’s the hold-up?”
Keebo hesitated. “What if… they don’t feel the same?”
Miu rolled her eyes so hard it was audible. “Then you reboot your dignity and move on. But you won’t because anyone with two eyes and half a brain can see how goo-goo they get around you.”
“Yes, really! They smile like an idiot when you talk. They get flustered when you compliment them. When you glitched out at lunch, they stared at your empty seat for ten minutes, you dumb hunk of emotional scrap metal!”
Keebo blinked. “That seems inefficient.”
“It’s called love, dipstick!” Miu groaned, dragging a stool over and collapsing into it. “Alright, screw casual. Screw romance. We’re going full throttle.”
Keebo looked mildly terrified. “Full throttle?”
She pointed at him. “You are going to confess. No more stalling. No more stage fright. I’m gonna coach every word out of your mouth if I have to. If I have to drag you by your weird robot hair and shove you into their arms, I will!”
“Tonight. Garden courtyard. Moonlight. Boom—romantic as hell.”
“Yes,” she said proudly. “That’s the point.”
That evening, Keebo stood at the edge of the courtyard, trembling slightly. The moon hung low in the sky, casting pale silver across the grass. Miu peeked from behind a hedge with binoculars.
You were walking toward him now, a little curious but smiling.
Miu whispered into the mic: “Now, start with a compliment.”
Keebo’s internal speakers relayed the instruction. He nodded stiffly.
“You… look very pleasant tonight.”
You giggled. “Thanks, Keebo. You look… polished.”
“Okay,” Miu hissed through the mic. “Now say, ‘I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.’”
“I have been calculating the percentage of my thoughts dedicated to you on a daily basis,” Keebo said.
“Too robot!” Miu snapped. “Try again! Say something human!”
Keebo stammered. “I—I enjoy your company and—uh—your laugh recalibrates my soul.”
You tilted your head, smile warm but confused. “Are you okay?”
Keebo’s fans spun into overdrive. “Initiating emergency retreat!”
Miu found him hiding behind a vending machine twenty minutes later.
“You coward,” she muttered, dragging him out by the arm.
Keebo sagged. “I failed again…”
“No. You didn’t. You’re closer than ever.” Miu squinted up at him. “You just need one final push. And when it happens… you won’t need me in your earpiece anymore.”
Keebo looked at the stars overhead.
It had rained the night before.
Now the campus smelled of petrichor, like something fresh and quiet and waiting to begin again. The morning air was cool, gentle, and slow, the kind that invited long walks and longer thoughts.
Keebo stood beneath the overhang of the main building, staring out at the glistening courtyard.
He’d been trying to figure out what had gone wrong.
Not the technical stuff, those were easy. Glitched vocalization? Reboot. Servo lag? Easy fix. But this wasn’t about hardware.
It had always been about you.
The way your laugh stayed looped in his auditory memory. The way you’d smile when you caught him staring, not annoyed, not uncomfortable, just… a little surprised. Warm. The way you always said good morning to him even when he was caught up in debugging a system scan and barely responded. The way you listened when he rambled about machine learning, or his fears, or his dreams.
Keebo had been built to mimic human emotions, but this?
And maybe it was flawed. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. But every calculation brought him back to the same result.
Today, he wasn’t going to glitch. Or run. Or hide behind vending machines. Today, he was going to try, really try.
Even if you didn’t feel the same.
He adjusted the scarf Miu had tied around his neck , a ridiculous lavender thing she claimed “made him look less like a terrified toaster” and stepped into the courtyard.
The grass was still damp beneath his boots.
He spotted you sitting on one of the benches near the garden, a book open in your lap, your fingers lightly brushing a flower’s petals beside you. You looked peaceful. Beautiful.
His core temperature spiked immediately.
But he took a breath. (Metaphorically.)
You looked up, surprised. “Oh—hey, Keebo! You’re up early.”
He nodded, a little stiff. “I… wanted to speak with you.”
You closed your book slowly. “Of course. What’s up?”
He sat down beside you, hands fidgeting with the ends of the scarf.
“I’ve… been trying to tell you something for some time now. But I’ve been… afraid.”
You tilted your head. “Afraid?”
“Yes.” He looked down. “Afraid that I’d malfunction. That I’d say the wrong thing. That I’d ruin something important.”
Your expression softened. “Keebo…”
He looked up then, really looked at you.
“I’m not good at this. At emotions. At… being vulnerable.” His voice trembled slightly, but he didn’t look away. “But every time I see you, my systems surge. Every time you speak to me, it feels like the world makes more sense. You make me want to be more than what I was built for.”
You blinked, heart thudding.
Keebo reached for your hand, fingers tentative but warm despite the cool metal.
“I’ve spent so much time calculating possibilities, running outcomes, trying to find the perfect moment. But I realize now… there is no perfect moment. Just this one.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
He smiled, small and vulnerable. “I don’t know if you feel the same. And if you don’t, that’s okay. I just… needed you to know.”
You didn’t speak for a moment. Just stared at him, lips parted, eyes wide.
He blinked, startled. “Did I say something incorrect—?”
“No,” you said, shaking your head quickly. “No! Keebo, I’m just—relieved.”
You reached for his hand, squeezing it.
“I’ve been waiting for you to say that for weeks. I thought maybe I was imagining it, or maybe I was just a friend to you.”
Keebo’s sensors flickered.
“You’re… not just a friend,” he said quietly. “You’re everything.”
Your smile widened, and you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his.
And when you kissed him, shy, slow, sweet, Keebo’s entire system nearly short-circuited.
Keebo blinked like his vision software had just rebooted. His fingers remained intertwined with yours, both of you still a little breathless.
He nodded, lips parted slightly. “I think… I am experiencing what humans refer to as ‘bliss.’”
You giggled softly. “Good. You deserve it.”
You both jerked back as a figure burst through the hedge like a human cannonball.
“MIU?!” Keebo squawked, his voice jumping half an octave.
Miu Iruma, goggles askew and hair full of leaves, stomped into the courtyard like she owned the place. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to grow a pair of metaphorical nuts, Keebo?!”
“I—Miu, were you spying on us?” Keebo sputtered, flustered.
“Of course I was! You think I helped build all those rehearsal plans, ran backup pep talks, and put up with your lovesick circuitry for nothing?! I practically wrote this confession with my bare hands!”
You snorted, covering your mouth. “Wait… all those weird setups earlier—?”
“That was me, baby!” Miu threw finger guns in both your directions. “Cupid Iruma in the flesh.”
Keebo groaned into his hands. “This is deeply humiliating…”
Miu just smirked, flopping dramatically onto the bench beside you both. “Nah, it’s romantic. I mean, it took five tries, a full meltdown, and three emotional breakdowns, but hey! You got there in the end!”
She winked at you. “You better treat him good, alright? He’s got a soft drive.”
You smiled, glancing at Keebo, who, despite his embarrassment, still held your hand tightly. His fans whirred low and steady.
Miu gave a satisfied nod. “Alright, lovebirds. I’m gonna go write this in my mental diary and take credit for it forever. Bye~!”
She walked off whistling something suspiciously like a wedding march.
Keebo groaned again. “…I can’t believe she watched that entire thing.”
You leaned against him with a smile. “I can. And I’m kinda glad she did.”
He glanced down at you, optical sensors soft. “I suppose… I am too.”
And in the fading morning light, with your fingers still laced and his heart finally steady, everything felt like it had clicked into place.
Miu definitely deserved a thank-you gift.
Thanks for reading! I really wanted to explore Keebo’s awkward attempts to understand love (with Miu’s chaotic help, of course).
if you have any requests, scenarios, headcanons, or other pairings, don’t be shy! My inbox is always open 🤍(Though it may take me a while to write it!)
