My Lovely Maid Oh Wait That’s A Boy Chapter 17 - Blog Posts

Ｍｙ Ｌｏｖｅｌｙ Ｍａｉｄ— Ｏｈ Ｗａｉｔ… Ｔｈａｔ’ｓ Ａ Ｂｏｙ

⬐ After losing his job and with nowhere else to go, (Y/N) ends up working as a maid for the Midoriya family. His soft features and quiet nature make everyone assume he’s a girl, and honestly, he doesn’t bother correcting them—it’s just easier that way. Everything seems fine until Izuku comes home and meets their new “maid,” and things get awkward fast. What starts as a simple job quickly turns into a tangle of misunderstandings that neither of them saw coming.

chapter 17

masterlist

The snow crunched underfoot as Team 1—now dubbed the Tree Squad—stepped into the bustling Christmas tree lot. Twinkling string lights illuminated rows of firs dusted with fresh snow, and the crisp scent of pine hung in the air. For most people, picking out a tree was a joyous occasion. For this group, it was a mission.

“Alright, we’re here to get the biggest and flashiest tree this place has to offer,” Tengen declared, his voice booming with his usual flamboyance. He adjusted his fur-lined coat, standing tall and ready to conquer the holiday season.

“It has to be one that screams Merry Christmas!” Tanjiro added, holding a carefully curated list of tree requirements. His warm smile contrasted with the chaos brewing behind him.

“Who cares about screaming? Let’s get the one that looks the toughest!” Inosuke yelled, his wild demeanor drawing a few curious looks from passersby.

Bakugo, walking slightly behind the group, scowled. “This whole thing is stupid. Just grab one and let’s get out of here.”

Despite their wildly different approaches, the group’s eyes locked on the tree almost simultaneously. It was a towering, perfectly symmetrical spruce with thick, lush branches and a snowy coating that shimmered under the lights. It was the tree of all trees.

“That’s it,” Tengen said, his voice reverent. “That’s our tree.”

The squad began making their way toward it when another group—a family of four armed with determined holiday cheer—stepped in from the other side.

“Oh no, no, no,” the mother of the family said, eyeing the tree. “We saw this one first.”

Tanjiro hesitated, a polite smile on his face. “Oh, um, actually, I think we—”

The father stepped forward, cutting him off. “This tree’s perfect for us. It’s just the right size for our living room.”

Inosuke growled, stomping forward. “What do you mean it’s yours?! I claimed it first!”

“You didn’t even see it until two seconds ago!” one of the kids shot back.

“Kid, don’t test me!” Inosuke yelled, crouching slightly like he was about to charge.

Tanjiro quickly stepped between them, waving his hands. “Wait, wait, wait! There’s no need to fight. I’m sure we can come to an agreement—”

“There’s no agreement,” the mom said, her hands on her hips. “This tree is ours.”

“That’s not happening,” Bakugo growled, his hands starting to spark. “Back off before I make you.”

“Bakugo, no!” Tanjiro said, his eyes wide.

Tengen let out a dramatic sigh, stepping forward to take control of the situation. “Alright, enough of this squabbling. This is a matter that requires finesse.” He glanced at Tanjiro, who looked hopeful, then at Inosuke, who was itching for a fight, and finally at Bakugo, who looked moments away from blowing something up.

“Bakugo,” Tengen said with a sly smile. “Handle it.”

Bakugo’s grin was immediate and sinister. “Gladly.”

Before anyone could react, Bakugo stomped toward the family, hands sparking dangerously as he glared at them. “You’ve got ten seconds to walk away, or I’m lighting this whole tree lot up!”

The family gasped, immediately backing away in a panic.

“Okay, okay! Take it! Just don’t blow anything up!” the mom yelled as they quickly retreated, dragging their kids along.

Bakugo stood triumphantly next to the tree, arms crossed and a smug look on his face. “That’s how you get stuff done.”

Tanjiro buried his face in his hands. “That wasn’t very Christmas-like…”

“Maybe not,” Tengen said, already lifting the tree over his shoulder. “But it was flamboyant. Excellent work, Bakugo.”

“Damn right it was,” Bakugo said, still grinning.

The drive back home was quieter than expected, the massive tree tied securely to the roof of the car. Tanjiro sat in the passenger seat, his list crumpled in his hands as he replayed the events of the tree lot.

• 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙥 •

The Decor Squad—Momo, Nezuko, Kirishima, and Present Mic—pulled into the parking lot of their fifth store, frustration thick in the air. Nezuko quietly nibbled on a candy cane she had picked up at the first store, while Present Mic drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to a beat no one else could hear. Momo sat in the backseat, meticulously organizing a list of decorations they were supposed to pick up: ornaments, garlands, and lights. Kirishima, sitting beside her, looked out the window, trying to stay optimistic.

“I’m sure this one will have what we need!” he said with a grin, though even his unbreakable positivity was beginning to falter.

“It better,” Momo muttered under her breath, peeking at her phone’s map to confirm they hadn’t strayed too far from the previous store. “We’ve already wasted so much time.”

“Wasted time? Nah! It’s all part of the holiday adventure, baby!” Present Mic exclaimed from the driver’s seat, throwing the car into park. He turned to the group, his signature sunglasses reflecting the store’s neon sign. “C’mon, let’s make this the one!”

They climbed out of the car, Nezuko trailing behind them, clutching her candy cane. As they walked into the store, a wave of despair washed over the group.

The shelves were bare.

“Are you kidding me?!” Momo exclaimed, staring at the nearly empty aisle where garlands should have been. A single, tattered strand of silver tinsel dangled from a hook as if mocking them.

“This is worse than the last store,” Kirishima said, scratching the back of his head. He picked up a cracked bauble from the ornament section and frowned. “I mean, we can’t put this on the tree. It’d look so… unmanly.”

Nezuko tugged on Momo’s sleeve, pointing at a section of lights, only to reveal that they were all mismatched and half the boxes were open.

“I don’t think any of those will even work,” Momo sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Alright! On to the next one!” Present Mic shouted, his energy unwavering. He spun on his heel and marched back toward the car, his long scarf trailing behind him like a banner of hope.

The group piled back into the car, exhaustion starting to set in. Nezuko, now curled up with her knees against her chest, peeked at the others as if wondering how long this would go on.

By the time they hit their eighth store, the mood in the car had shifted from frustration to quiet defeat. Kirishima slouched in his seat, staring out the window. Present Mic hummed softly to himself, trying to keep morale up, while Momo furiously scribbled notes in her notebook, trying to strategize their next move.

Finally, Kirishima sat up abruptly, his eyes wide as if a light bulb had gone off in his head. He turned to Momo, staring at her with a mix of disbelief and dawning realization.

“Momo,” he said slowly, “why didn’t you just make ornaments with your quirk?”

The car fell silent.

Momo blinked, her pencil hovering over her notebook. “…What?”

“You can literally create stuff,” Kirishima continued, gesturing wildly. “Like, you can make a cannon, but you can’t make a Christmas ornament? Why are we even driving around when you’ve got the solution inside you?”

Momo stared at him, her expression blank at first. Then, the weight of his words hit her like a freight train. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “You’re right.”

Present Mic slammed the brakes (even though they were already parked). “Wait, wait, wait. You mean to tell me we’ve been running all over town for no reason?!”

Nezuko, ever the quiet observer, tilted her head in mild confusion, as if to say, You’re just realizing this now?

“I—I didn’t even think about it,” Momo stammered, her cheeks flushing red. “I was so focused on the list and making sure we got everything we needed that I—”

“—forgot you’re basically a walking Christmas factory,” Kirishima finished, leaning back in his seat with an exasperated laugh.

Present Mic threw his hands in the air. “Alright, problem solved! Back to HQ we go!”

On the drive back, Momo sat quietly, her embarrassment still evident. She had already started sketching designs for ornaments, garlands, and even a star for the top of the tree in her notebook.

Kirishima, now fully back to his cheerful self, leaned over to peek at her drawings. “Those look awesome! See? We didn’t need those stores anyway.”

Present Mic turned up the radio, a Christmas song blaring through the car as he drove. “Let’s just pretend this was the plan all along, yeah? No one has to know!”

Nezuko, now munching on a fresh candy cane she had somehow acquired, nodded sagely in agreement.

As they pulled up to the house, Kirishima grinned at Momo. “Hey, at least we got to bond, right? And now you’re gonna make the most manly decorations ever.”

Momo couldn’t help but smile, despite herself. “Thanks, Kirishima. Next time, I’ll try to think things through a bit more.”

“Next time,” Present Mic chimed in, “let’s just stay home and skip the wild goose chase altogether!”

The group laughed as they grabbed their things and headed inside, ready to make up for lost time and finish decorating.

• 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙥 •

Team 3—(Y/N), Muichiro, Aizawa, and Zenitsu—piled into the car with their mission clear: replenish the snacks, restock the hot cocoa, and salvage the holiday cheer. As the car rumbled down the snowy road, the atmosphere was a mix of determination and quiet dread, mostly fueled by Zenitsu’s near-constant rambling.

“Why me? Why do I have to go? Hot cocoa isn’t even my thing! What if we get attacked by a demon on the way? Or worse, we run into a Karen in the grocery store?” Zenitsu wailed from the backseat, clutching the headrest in front of him like it was a lifeline.

Aizawa, in the driver’s seat, groaned. His scarf was lazily wrapped around his neck, and he was already regretting agreeing to this task. “Zenitsu, there are no demons here. Only stressed-out shoppers.”

“And that’s even worse!” Zenitsu shot back. “Have you seen people at the store during the holidays? It’s a madhouse!”

Muichiro, sitting beside him, stared out the window, his expression calm as ever. “If we’re attacked, (Y/N) can handle it. They’ve got Bakugo-level chaos energy when needed.”

(Y/N), sitting in the passenger seat, smirked and glanced back at their brother. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Muichiro. But let’s try not to start any fights. We just need snacks, not a showdown in the frozen food aisle.”

“Yeah, try telling that to Zenitsu,” Muichiro muttered under his breath, earning a dramatic gasp from Zenitsu.

The first grocery store was exactly as chaotic as Zenitsu had feared. People swarmed the aisles like vultures, snatching up the last of the holiday goodies. The shelves looked as though a tornado had passed through, with half-empty boxes of candy canes and torn-open hot cocoa packets scattered everywhere.

“Great,” (Y/N) muttered, surveying the wreckage. “This is worse than I expected.”

“I told you!” Zenitsu whispered urgently, sticking close to Aizawa like a nervous child. “This is a nightmare! We’ll never find what we need here!”

Muichiro wandered ahead, his expression unreadable as he scanned the shelves. He picked up a lone bag of marshmallows and held it up for inspection. “At least we’ve got these,” he said.

(Y/N) shook their head. “We’re going to need more than just marshmallows, Muichiro.”

By the time they reached the third store, tensions were high. Zenitsu was on edge, clutching a shopping basket like it was a weapon. Muichiro had taken it upon himself to grab anything that looked remotely useful, including an industrial-sized canister of whipped cream that no one asked for. Aizawa trailed behind them, looking like he was seconds away from curling up in the pet food aisle and taking a nap.

“Okay,” (Y/N) said, clapping their hands together. “We’re dividing and conquering. Zenitsu, you grab the hot cocoa mix. Muichiro, find the snacks. I’ll get the drinks. Aizawa… supervise.”

Aizawa gave a half-hearted nod, his scarf twitching slightly as if to say, Fine.

Zenitsu darted off, weaving through the crowd like his life depended on it. He reappeared minutes later, clutching not one, but four boxes of hot cocoa mix. “Just in case!” he said defensively when (Y/N) raised an eyebrow.

Meanwhile, Muichiro’s “snack collection” turned out to be both impressive and baffling. He returned with chips, cookies, and what appeared to be an entire section of Japanese candy. “I thought it would be fun to mix things up,” he said when Aizawa gave him a tired look.

The chaos truly began at the checkout line. Zenitsu, jittery as ever, managed to drop one of the boxes of cocoa mix, sending packets skidding across the floor. (Y/N) sighed, kneeling to gather them up, only to be cut off by a harried shopper trying to push their cart through.

“Excuse me!” the shopper snapped, glaring down at (Y/N).

Zenitsu’s eyes went wide, and he backed up, muttering, “Oh no, oh no, it’s happening. It’s happening!”

Muichiro stepped in, his calm demeanor masking the slight edge to his tone. “You could at least wait a moment. We’ll be out of your way soon enough.”

The shopper scoffed. “Kids these days have no respect.”

(Y/N) rose to their feet, cocoa packets in hand, and offered a tight-lipped smile. “We’re just trying to finish our shopping like everyone else. How about a little holiday spirit, huh?”

The shopper opened their mouth to retort, but Aizawa appeared behind (Y/N), his towering presence and perpetually tired expression enough to make anyone think twice. “Let’s keep moving,” he said, his voice low and firm.

The shopper huffed and pushed their cart away, leaving Zenitsu to collapse against a nearby shelf in relief. “I thought we were done for,” he whispered dramatically.

(Y/N) rolled their eyes. “It’s hot cocoa, Zenitsu, not the apocalypse.”

By the time they made it back to the car, the group was weighed down with bags of snacks, drinks, and more whipped cream than anyone could reasonably use. As Aizawa started the engine, (Y/N) glanced back at their brother.

“You know, Muichiro,” they said, holding up the massive canister of whipped cream, “this is a bit overkill.”

Muichiro shrugged. “It’s festive.”

Zenitsu, now munching on a candy bar he had snagged during checkout, nodded in agreement. “Honestly, it’s the most useful thing we got. What’s hot cocoa without whipped cream?”

Aizawa sighed deeply as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Remind me never to agree to this again.”

“Aw, c’mon, Aizawa-sensei,” (Y/N) said with a grin. “We crushed it. Snacks secured. Cocoa stocked. Mission accomplished.”

Zenitsu leaned forward, pointing at the road ahead. “Yeah, and we didn’t even have to fight anyone! Well, not really.”

Aizawa groaned. “I need coffee.”

The group chuckled as they drove back home, their bags full and their spirits — well mostly intact. The Food Squad had succeeded, chaos and all.