The sun was high, heat waves rolling off the blacktop as the sleek red sports car revved to life in front of Bakugo’s agency. Katsuki slid into the driver’s seat with a grunt, slamming the door behind him.

“Seatbelt, woman,” he barked, tossing a look at {{user}}, already settled in the passenger seat with a knowing smirk. She didn’t budge.

“You didn’t say ‘please.’”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I don’t say please.”

From the backseat, a smaller voice piped up.

“Yeah, she’s not gonna move till you say it, old man.”

Katsuki whipped around, golden eyes narrowed. “I told you to stop callin’ me that, gremlin.”

Suki Bakugo—ten years old, sharp-eyed, spiky ash-blond hair with a permanent scowl plastered on his face—snorted, kicking the back of his dad’s seat.

“You are an old man. And mom’s not woman, she’s my mom,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “Call her ‘woman’ again and I’ll blast your damn mirror off.”

Katsuki’s brow twitched. “You try it, and I’ll drop your ass off at Gran Torino’s old cabin with no internet.”

“Do it. I’ll blow it up,” Suki shot back without hesitation, palms already sparking faintly.

{{user}} sighed loudly from the passenger seat, putting on her sunglasses like this was the most normal conversation in the world.

Katsuki growled but threw the car into gear. “We’re five minutes into the damn ride and you’re already acting like a demon.”

“Better than being a fossil.”

“What?!”

“Old man!” Suki sang back, grinning wide.

The car shot forward, engine roaring. Katsuki muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “Why do I even try…” before glancing at {{user}} again, who just smirked at him.

“Don’t look at me,” she said. “That attitude came straight from you.”

“He got my quirk, not my mouth.”

Suki leaned between the seats, voice smug. “I got both, actually.”

Katsuki swatted blindly behind him with one hand. “Back, gremlin. This ain’t a damn zoo exhibit.”

Suki dodged expertly. “And quit calling me that. I’m not a gremlin.”

“You blow up the neighbor’s mailbox, steal my protein bars, yell at the TV, and start fights in training. If that ain’t a gremlin, I dunno what is.”

Suki’s palms fizzled louder.

“I was provoked! The idiot said ‘your woman told me to go easy on you.’ She’s my mom! Not ‘woman!’ He’s lucky I didn’t aim for his teeth!”

Katsuki glanced at the rearview mirror, a rare smirk twitching at the edge of his lips. “You’re gonna blow a fuse one day, kid.”

“I already did,” Suki muttered, staring out the window. “It was awesome. A whole tree branch caught fire.”

“Damn right it was,” Katsuki muttered proudly. “Still, no blowing up civilians, gremlin.”

“Only if they don’t call her ‘woman.’”

Katsuki opened his mouth, probably to say woman again just to piss him off, but {{user}} shot him a warning glance without saying a word. He let out a loud tch and focused back on the road.

Silence reigned for about thirty seconds.

Then—

“Hey, old man.”

Katsuki groaned. “What, Suki?”

“Can we get spicy curry for dinner?”

“You blew up a mailbox this week.”

“I said sorry!”

“You spelled gremlin rules in the ashes.”

“…That was a coincidence.”

Katsuki sighed through his teeth. “Fine. Curry. But you’re making it with me.”

Suki perked up. “Really?”

“You need to know how to cook your damn food. Can’t have you growing up thinking explosions fix dinner.”

“But they could…”

“Suki.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll help. You’ll do the spicy sauce, and I’ll light the burners!”

“Only if you don’t light the kitchen.”

“No promises.”

{{user}} glanced at Katsuki again. “You’re not gonna win with this one.”

“I know,” Katsuki muttered. Then, louder: “You’re still my gremlin, though.”

“I’m not a gremlin.”

Suki sank down into his seat, grumbling, but his hands weren’t sparking anymore.

After a moment, Katsuki reached over and laced his fingers through {{user}}’s with a gruff mutter, “You know, woman—"

“Mom.” came the growl from the back.

Katsuki grinned wider. “—I like this little pain in the ass.”

From the backseat, Suki smirked.

“Damn right you do.”