#cookout

[daily-deliciousness]

Cilantro lime chicken

[hernamewaswinnie]

𝖡𝖨𝖦 𝖬𝖠𝖬𝖠

❝ 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅, 𝖦𝖾𝗈𝗋𝗀𝗂𝖺 𝖽𝗈𝗆𝖾!, ❞

Warnings: smut but no p in v, smoking, dryhumping (what is a story of mine if it doesn't have any?!), finger sucking & soooo many pet names if you couldn't tell by the title

1 8 + , pairing: gf/ bmreader x bf/ bdmichael

a/n 1/2: your daughter is referred to as Pumpkin. there's a drought in sub mature era fics, sub doesn't always have to be equivalent to inexperienced!

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞 ˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞

Today was an absolute success.

Was it chaotic?

Yes!

But still, it was a perfectly orchestrated, chaotic, success.

For the first time in the three years of you and Michael owning your luxurious family home in Malibu, you'd thrown a cookout.

The cookout was everything you'd envisioned and more.

A part of you realized that you and Michael had isolated yourselves from everyone, but the thoughts didn't really settle until it was too late.

After having your first child, the two of you had gone to unimaginable lengths to protect her. Michael especially. He'd grown this wondrously protective persona that he'd turn on and off like flipping a light switch. So when it came to his daughter.. don't let it come to her. That fierce instinct isolated you both from everyone. Including family.

You'd learned very quickly that snakes lived within every instance of your lives, but Michael — as he lived constantly in the starlight—had known that.

The morning after you found out you were pregnant Michael had already spoken to your landlord. He told you, and I quote "I'll be damned if I have my girl and child living here. You know I've been trying to move you out for months."

This was true. But you stood on the fact that you didn't want to be dependent on him. That you would still work, still live in your own house, and be the same independent woman you were before you and him became an item.

God forbid you got into an arguement with him and he left you stranded.

You knew he'd never, but thoughts like that didn't just disappear with conformation, they lingered even in your happiest moments, and furthur prevented you from moving in with him. Regardless of the fight you put up (you'd given up when he stared at you with puppy dog eyes) you ended up living with him by the end of the week.

The following week Michael approached you with various home designs much to your surprise. Once again, your complaints were futile, and when you finally gave in and accepted one the designs, Michael cheered — literally cheered —and with this he began renovations of his own home —orginally designed for one, now fit for family. Your home was far from basic, the usual minimalist coastal style of typical Malibu homes having nothing on him and his creative mind.

20 acres of beautiful green grass full of sprawling opportunity; (would've been more but you didn't want anymore land), and a custom modern lit family home spanning 6,000 feet of the property.

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞 ˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞

The men tended the grill, Joseph hovering close with a watchful eye as his sons grilled ribs, hotdogs and hamburgers.

Even from the kitchen you could tell it was plethora of food, the amount where even after people grab extra plates for the ride home, there would be enough to eat off of the next three days. But by then you'd be sick of it. And Michael would serve you hand and foot to whatever your pretty heart desired, especially when it came to food.

The Jackson women (excluding Katherine because she was in the living room playing with your babygirl), were fixing sides in the kitchen. Greens, baked beans, mac and cheese, all the sweet and savory food that were usually paired with the meat.

You prepared your famous banana pudding, already having made a cake earlier in the day. Everyone kept insisting you rest and have fun like the rest of them, but you were hosting, so that was never an option.

"Word on the street is that one of y'all got a new boo and ain't tell me?" You roll your neck, tilting your head as you scanned over the three Jackson sisters with an arched brow.

Rebbie continued slowly stirring the pot of greens, an amused lilt grabbing the corner of her lips. "Well I'm happily married so excuse me."

LaToya pled the fifth, reaching into her bag and pulling out a compact mirror to fluff her blowout and reapply her lipstick.

Janet rubbed the side of her arm nervously, cracking under minimal pressure. "Okay fine! You got me.. there is someone." Quickly she shifts, changing the subject. "Don't you have pudding to finish?"

The cleanup following the phenomenal food and camaraderie was all but slow. Jackie and Tito put their muscles to work to help get everything stuff thrown away quickly and efficiently.

Mama K was simply content on the couch, rocking your toddler in her arms and passing her off to you when she notices your arrival. "She's been an angel this whole time.."

And when final goodbyes are exchanged and the last car pulls out of your long driveway? The house is still and quiet, save for the soft snores of your seven year old Yorkshire terrier, Mickey.

Michael closes the front door, and leans against it with a deep, content sigh. He pushes off the door and walks over to you, his arms encircling both you and Pumpkin in a gentle hug.

He leans in, resting his forehead against yours. "Thank you, (Name). Today was amazing.."

You don't respond, relishing in the moment. And the three of you stand in the foyer like a picture-perfect family.

Carefully he takes Pumpkin from your arms, cradling her against his shoulder with practiced ease. "I'll get her to bed.."

Michael settles her in the colorful expanse of the bedroom, and gently lays her in her toddler bed, pulling the fluffy blanket to her chin. He stands there for a minute, watchig the moonlight glimmer off of his daughters radiant brown skin, her curls jumbled from her exciting day of meeting new family members and toddling around.

He exits Pumpkins room and turns to you, grabbing your hand and leading you back to the living room couch.

Instantly, you both melt into the cushions, the slight tension in your shoulders easing into the leather.

Michael's arm finds your waist, pulling you flush to his side. You rest your hand on his chest and gasp as his fingers begin playing with the strap of your thong, snapping the material on your hips over and over.

"Michael!" You slap his chest with one hand and swat his hand with the other , fighting the giggles threatening to erupt in your chest.

"What?" He asks innocently, black waves casting shadows over his forehead as he tilts his head. "Y'got your whale tale out today."

You simply kiss your teeth, leaning forward to grab a leftover blunt in an ashtray and sparking it with the Barbie pink lighter that lived on your belt.

( i am not encouraging smoking in the same household as children! but this is fictitious, read it for the plot! )

The sweet, earthy, charred scent of the blunt mixes with the lingering aroma of the cookout. Michael watches you— or rather adores you—a lovestricken smile on his face as you take the first pull.

"We should make this an annual thing, baby. We don't see family enough." You exhale the smoke, leaning furthur into Michael's side.

"I like that," he nods slowly, "A tradition for our family."

Once, twice, three times.

You notice Michael's eyes drop to your blunt three times before his tongue darts out, wetting his lips; obviously he wants to take a hit.

Now, it wasn't often that Michael smoked. But whenever you sparked up, he couldn't help but want to join in. He'd take no more than two hits, sometimes a few more. But you knew he needed to preserve his voice, so sometimes you denied him.

Thankfully, tonight was not one of those times.

"You know what the best part of today was? Watching you in your element. Hosting, laughing, making your famous pudding. You're a natural. You know how to really build people up."

You giggle, using your freehand to throw a braid over your shoulder. "You don't have to kiss my ass to get a hit.."

"No, no! I'm serious!" Michael rubbed the back of his neck, a flush crawling its way up his neck, his lips tilted in a downward bashful smile.

"Well, still, thank you baby. That's what Big Mama does." You shrug, taking the blunt from your own lips and holding it out for him.

You watch closely as he leans in — his eyes never dropping from yours —and inhales, cheeks hollowing slightly. The quiet intimacy of the gesture as tangible as the thick smoke curling between you that drifted upward, brushing the ceiling.

"Big Mama?" His voice takes an amused lilt, exhaling the smoke softly. "I like that, suits you."

"How so? Besides the fact that I'm a thick ass mother." You tease, watching Michael's eyes drop when you lightly tap your behind, the flesh recoiling despite the slight restriction of your bedazzled jeans .

"That's part of it. But the way you take care of everybody. The love you show to our daughter. The way you made our house a home."

You set the blunt down in its ashtray, eyes fluttering shut when you lean into his shoulder, inhaling his cologne. "Mhm? Tell me more, bubba."

His voice drops to a hypnotic murmur, almost enough to lull you to sleep, the sound vibrating through his broad chest. "You're the reason for it all, (Name). You built a world, with a backyard and a garden with your roses, and hibiscuses, and those stunning lilies.." He pauses, his voice taking a quieter emotional turn. "And a crib in the next room."

"That's what I like to hear.." You smile, fingers finding his chin and bringing him closer until your lips brushed against each other. "Gimme sum'.."

Michael closes the distance between you, and slowly you kiss, the peck deepening slowly, fueled by the gentle buzz from the blunt and the success of the days ventures. His hand comes up to cradle your face, thumbs stroking the apples of your cheeks.

The makeout session continues, lazy and deep on the plush couch. You shift closer to his side, Michael's hand sliding from your face to your waist, pulling you firmly to his side before dropping to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

"We got a sleepin' baby down the hall.. and you're kissin' me like you want another one.." His lip slips between his bottom teeth.

"It was just a little kiss.." You tease, trailing his jaw with your finger.

"A little kiss? That was more than a little kiss, mama." He leans in, nose brushing against yours. His gaze drops to your parted lips, his own parting in response, tongue brushing yours in a faster, sloppier kiss than before.

Instantly, you adjust over, thighs bracketing his hips. Michael's eyes flutter open, now dark with a fresh wave of desire.

If only walls could talk. This ole' couch has seen more things than it would've liked too, and tonight would be no different.

His large hands tighten on your waist, guiding the slow, deliberate rhythm of your hips against his growing erection.

Your lips find his neck, sucking and marking it up. His body naturally arches up to meet the slow grind of your hips.

"You're so hard beneath your jeans, baby.." You whisper, fingers tracing the fresh mark on his neck.

"Just.. being near you.." Michael strains out, his voice a low rasp, hips frantically searching for more friction.

Pumpkin shifts in her sleep, soft coos leaving her mouth and echoing down the corridor. Michael notices instantly, his ears perking up.

"We should...." He glances toward the hallway where Pumpkin sleeps, visibly torn between checking on your daughter and the sheer desire in his body.

You shake your head, manicured fingers grasping his chin and forcing his wide eyes back on yours. "We have a baby monitor for a reason.. focus on Big Mama. You said being near me gets you like this?"

His eyes lock on your own, captured by your gaze and the commanding tone in your voice. "Always.. from the first day we met. One look at me and I fall apart.."

The words land right between your thighs, and without another thought your hips are rocking faster, clit twitching. "Yeah? Don't drop my gaze."

His breathing grows ragged, matching your hips in perfect sync, a desperate rhythm. "Yes.. oh God, yes, (Name).."

You still your hips. "That's not my name, baby.."

You feel his hips stutter as he struggles to keep his focus, big hands dragging you down against him again. "Mama? Big Mama? Mommy? I don't know baby, just.. please.."

"That's it.." You rock again, feeling him buck up against you in a sharp involuntary movement that makes you gasp. "I haven't even got you out your clothes yet.."

A shudder runs through him as you nibble on his ear. The friction of your jeans against his is maddening, paired with the power in your voice, it's all pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

"You know I'm sensitive, Mama. You know what you do to me.."

"I'm so close.." Michael's eyes are glazed, still holding your stare as you commanded him earlier. He's trembling with the effort of holding back, knuckles white where he grips your hips. He's willingly submitting, and the thought alone is enough to send another wave of heat over your skin.

"Not yet.."

The sudden slow drag of your hips draws a frustrated groan from Michael's throat. His body arches up, searching for the friction you're denying him, but his attempt is futile and you hold your pace, a deliberate slow teasing.

"Please.." His forehead falls, landing right on your shoulder, placing your hand to his chest, allowing you to feel the rapid beat of his heart. "I'm listenin'.. I'm bein' good.."

"Beg f'me, papa."

And when you still? Michael whines again, his body taut as a bowstring.

"Please let me cum for you.." His hips raise in a tiny thrust, a helpless reflex. "I need it.. please, Ma.."

His expression is one of pure desperation, he's completely surrendered. Body laid bare(not physically but mentally) to your every command. And at that moment you take a second to stare at him. The waves of his hair— usually meticulously styled— ruffled and disorderly as if he'd spent a day with Pumpkin alone, pupils blown wide with desperation and desire, and the subtle twitch of his hips that's slowly becoming less subtle after every passing breath.

You pretend to ponder it, tapping your chin before resuming your fervored pace. "Let go for me.. you've been doing so good.."

Michael's eyes squeeze shut, his body convulsing beneath you. You slip your fingers in his mouth already knowing what to expect next. His lips wrap tight around your fingers just in time, tongue warm around the digits as a broken muffled moan escapes his throat, clawing it's way up from his gut.

His release is everything but subtle, body arching off the couch as he soaks the dark fabric of his deep-blue Levis. The warmth of release seeps onto your thighs and you're still rutting against him, riding out your orgasm with your own head thrown back.

Michael's chest is rising and falling quickly, one hand holding your waist and the other holding your braids away from your face, tugging your head back.

Slowly, you both collapse into the cushions, thighs drenched through the jeans with your arousal and your mixed release.

You both sit there for a long moment before turning your head, the soft pad of tiny quiet footsteps catching your attention.

"Ma-ma.." The toddler's soft voice rings out, rubbing her brown eyes with the back of her hand.

You and Michael share a quick knowing look and both stifle a laugh, tickled with your three-year-old's impeccable timing. Slowly, you pull a blanket from the side of the couch around your hips, shielding the innocent child's eyes from seeing the mess her 'mama' and 'papa' created.

"Yes, baby?"

݁♬⋆.˚𝄞 ˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞

@bawdylanguageee @slickdickwitchbitchh @triippy2hiippie

a/n 2/2: i hope i lived up to everyone's expectations, i gained so many followers from the concept of big mama alone, and i don't wanna disappoint! i am so intentional with all of my stories & i hope it comes across that way! i also hope to make many mutuals real soon.

[yourmommmmma12244]

Sinners character’s as people at cookouts inspired by my family and my mom’s own cookouts

Smoke - The guy on the grill. Makes the best grilled food you can tell because he’s sweating mad hard. Then complains about it after he’s done saying he ain’t doing it again. (He’s doing it again)

Stack- He’s that one guy who calls out people if they take more than one plate. If he see’s you with a bag filled with food. Trust your ass is getting clowned until the next cookout.

Sammie - Smoke had him grill the burgers at one point but he burned his finger prints. Burgers tasted good though. But now he just brings the ice.

Pearline - She helps set up any decorations. If it’s setting up tables, blowing balloons or setting up a treat table she’s there.

Mary - Helps with the simple stuff like cutting the cheese for the mac and cheese, or peeling the corn. She does a good job at it.

Annie - The person that cooks. While smoke does grill Annie does the other food wither it’s the sides or fried stuff. She also cooks too much and smoke complains about it. She once cooked a turkey for the cookout

Remmick - Some random guy that no one knows but is at every cookout so he’s a vibe. He also brings the best soda’s so it’s a win ig…

Delta slim - The guy with the best alcohol. They don’t know where he gets it from because he always gate keeps it. He also likes to mix it with slushes and stuff to give it a little kick.

Bo chow - Your cousin. No but really that’s what the older people will tell you if you ask. Has a nice car so all the little kids always go up to his car. Always playing cards with the elderly.

Grace - Your cousin’s nice wife. Always sneak the kids extra food or snacks when their parents say no. No one ever questions or say something to her about it.

Cornbread - The one who has to light the fireworks for any special event. Also someone who you’re laughing with or at all night when he’s drunk because he becomes a full comedian at that time.

[andallshallbewell]

[metamorphicmuse]

Quiet Bravery

[mylittlevintageworld]

[lazy-nae2]

Hey, can you maybe do Chris x Black fem-reader (including the kids) visit the reader's family at a cookout or function? (I LOVE YOU WORK BTW💕💕)

A/N: Thank you for the support, truly appreciate you🩵🩵🩵 And I’ll be up to the challenge, hoping to succeed best as I can. First time managing to write a 3,050 word fanfic, hope you all enjoy despite I felt it was rushed.

P.S: I’m also working on a Carlos Oliveria and a Leon Kennedy re9 fic. Making too many ideas and leaving them for weeks on end to sit in drafts is crazy. Need to clear my drafts.

Family Rendevouz

Location: Redfield Residence

The ceiling fan continued to faintly spin above the cold black sheets of the bed, while you turned over within your sleep, unaware of the changing within your breathing. Half sprawled over your husband’s chest, as he let out a grunt within his sleep before styling, and you snuggling against his firm chest further in unconscious search of a familiar warmth.

Your dreams weren’t always so vivid or clear, something it would be just a replay of fond memories with the family that you both built, or simply the replaying of fragmented memories from your youth.

Stuck within the cycle of remembering the world that Oswald E. Spencer tried to mold, and yet so failed, with the dream to live again in another’s mind.

You faintly remembered the first time you ever stumbled upon the world of Spencer and Umbrella, less stumbling, but being placed within it.

Letters of admission into a gifted school landed upon your parents desk, made for the children of great intellect, and those whose parents were great in their own importance to society. Under the guise of being placed into the school with your parents permission after their extensive research, and speaking with your current school, they found no fault or foulness in the school.

Yet your mother was slightly more unsure about sending you, only allowing you to go with the promise of you contacting them whenever it was allowed.

“You remember where home is, no matter how far this school takes you from us? Remember where you come from baby.” Your mother’s words rung in your ear, as you were stepping out of the black Cadillac.

The fog of the early morning clung lowly to the ground and air, as the dew on the grass clung onto your black leather oxfords. The heeled shoes softly clicking against the cobblestone, while your feet lead you within the building that would slowly rebuild you.

Unaware of how your breath changed quicker and faster, as your old memories ran through your head, shifting into the revelation of the real nature behind the schools intentions from the beginning.

Your sleep was beginning to feel closer to a dream of dread, as you slowly began hearing a voice causing you to stir, being pulled from the memories.

"Ma….mama….. mommy, wake up. Finn just ate the last poptart.” A soft yet annoyed voice pulled you from your sleep, while you blinked a couple of times to clear the sleep from your vision, and turned to gaze up at one of your twins.

Ethan, twin to Finn, and the one currently sitting on your husbands chest, as Chris was simply looking up at one of his youngest sons unamused by the interruption to your sleep. You blinked up at him one last mindless time, before bringing yourself to lean off of Chris and looking toward Finn.

“Didn’t we get you each your own box of poptarts?” You asked, a bit groggy and confused as you settled against the headboard, feeling one of Chris’s arms around your waist.

“Yeah, but he ate all of his, and just ate mine. His greed knows no bounds.” Ethan spoke annoyed while he had a pout on his face, and you and Chris were simply holding in a laugh at the greed part.

“And what would you know about greed?” Chris deep voice rang through the room, while he carefully moved Ethan to sit down onto the bed, while he was swinging his legs off the bed to stand up. Ethan looked up at him, as his brows were scrunched together in thought, much to the both of yours amusement. A four year old questioning about his brothers greed, concerning their poptarts.

“He ate something that was mine, and he had something of his own. He is greedy.” Ethan responded, as you were also moving from the bed after getting a notification from your watch about a message, yet you simply went about heading into the bathroom to do your business.

Meanwhile Chris had walked with Ethan on his hip toward the kitchen downstairs, before spotting Finn still munching on his poptart, as both twins made eye contact. Chris softly shook his head at the both of their stare-downs. “Finn, did you eat Ethan’s poptart?”

An almost too quick answer fell from Finn’s lips, while he climbed down from his chair, with one of the poptarts still in his hands. “He ate my fruit loops last week, so yes.” Chris looked toward Ethan, who he allowed to slip from his grasp.

“I guess that’s fair.” Chris muttered begrudgingly, “But you both apologize, and stop touching each others food.” He then looked toward both of the twins, clearly waiting to hear them apologize.

“Sorry.” Finn muttered, as he turned his head from Ethan, still holding onto the poptart pack.

“Sorry for calling you greedy.” Ethan responded, while Finn gave him a small side eye, which was beyond hilarious, and Chris just decided to leave it to their twins. “You two finish your breakfast, then go get dressed. We’re going to your grandparents house.”

That was enough to get a cheer from the twins, as Ethan managed to grab the other poptart within the packet, while Finn reluctantly allowed him to have it. “You two are just something else.” Chris muttered with a small soft amused sigh leaving his lips, while he had a small grin.

Meanwhile, as Chris resolved the small non-issue between the twins, you were standing within your bedroom after changing into a pair of jean shorts, a family reunion shirt, and a pair of simple sneakers.

Receiving a message from your parents was still slightly a challenge for you, as for most of your late adolescent to teenage years you slowly lost pieces of them in your memories, yet you were fine with relearning about them, and what having a family was supposed to mean to you at first.

‘Hey, you still coming right? By the time you arrive, the food might as well been ready, and most of the activities ready for the kids.’

You looked down upon the text, before softly shifting your color contacts correctly, fixing your fingers to type and hesitated as your hands still for a moment. You’d ask the kids before anything proceeded.

Walking silently from the bedroom, down the hall to your eldest room, softly knocking and peaking in to see Verena asleep, with half her cover on the floor, and sideways on her bed. A bit confused and curious as to how she could possibly end up in that position, yet walked in to softly shake her shoulder, with the lightest grip you could manage.

“Come on Vee, wake up baby.” You lowly muttered, as the girl stirred while halfway tempted to just turn back toward her pillow, and pull her cover over her head. You simply sat on the cover to keep it from being moved back over her head.

“Wanna go see Grandma and Grandaddy, along with the rest of the family? They’ll be having fun at the cookout.”

At the mention of her grandparents, she opened her eyes while looking over to you as if she was seriously weighing the pros and cons of that situation. Eventually she mustered a small yes, sliding out of bed to do her morning routine, even with it being afternoon. You gave a slow nod, before walking to leave from her room, closing the door behind yourself.

Now it would be time to convince the twins to go as well. Just as you were about to head downstairs, Chris was heading back up. “They already agreed to go, they’re excited to see their grandparents.” He lowly spoke, as he gently caught you by your waist and pulled you back into him.

“Get em dressed and we’re heading out then.” You lowly responded, and within the next few moments the house was in a bustle, as you all went about your morning routine, getting dressed, packing the twins and Verena an extra change of clothes as you both guessed that they were absolutely going to be getting in the pool.

* ˚ ✦* ˚ ✦ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* * ˚ ✦ * ˚

At the Sinclaire Residence

Pulling into the yard alongside the street, while making sure the car was out of the road, you five all got out of the car, heading toward the front door. Having each of the twins on one of your hips, while Verena walked slightly ahead of you all going up to the front door, and Chris carrying the baked sweets you made after still procrastinating about the decision to go or not.

Hearing ‘Before I let go’ playing from the backyard, you continued walking as a soft smile broke onto your face at smelling the scent of food wafting through the house, as you all walked inside. Setting the twins down, as they followed after their sister.

“Seems Ma did some redecorating since the last time we saw her.” You softly muttered, and Chris let out a thoughtful hum as you gazed over the living room walking through the large area seeing framed photos sitting along the coffee table and on the walls.

“Added more photos.” He lowly responded, looking out over the familiar phases encased within the photos, and back toward you, as he wrapped an arm softly around your waist.

“Y’all done finally arrived. Thought it was going to take you forever if she was driving.” A playful and warm soft voice came from the kitchen, as you looked toward the kitchen seeing your cousin, Alexis, while she was looking at you both with a soft smile.

A warm smile broke across your lips, going past the threshold to sit the cake down onto the food table, as you softly hugged her and her eagerly returning it. “And how’ve you been?” You lowly asked, as you both pulled away and she simply settled for giving Chris a side hug as he returned it lightly.

“I’ve been alright, kids nearly ‘bout to run me ragged with all those sports of theirs. Hard to keep up with a gymnast, soccer, and track runner. These boys be at practice every other day and night, if not there, out with friends.” Alexis responded, as she lightly crossed her arms while she turned toward you both.

“That sound like the boys.” Chris warmly spoke, as he looked out of the kitchen window seeing the rest of the family that did arrive. Music playing, the scent of food and drinks wafting through the air, and a symphony of the kids yelling and playing.

Seeing a water balloon go flying past one of the younger children, and managing to hit their older teenage cousin, made you all chuckle softly.

“I’ll go make sure the kids are having fun.” Chris lowly muttered to you, leaving a soft lingering kiss on your cheek, as you closed your eyes briefly at the feeling before he went to go walk out the back door.

After hearing the door close behind him, and seeing him step out of hearing range, your cousins voice spoke up in the calm silence. “You know Aunt Lisa been asking bout you and the kids, wondering how you all are.” She turned her gaze back toward you, as you let out a slow breath as your jaw slightly clenched at the mention of your Aunt.

“Same Aunt Lisa that said I shouldn’t have come home after all those years of being gone, especially with my red eyes.” You sarcastically responded even though she could hear a soft hint of annoyance in your voice, as you glanced to her from behind your contacts.

“She was wilding for saying that, but know we don’t feel the same. You’re still the same cousin we know, even if we’re relearning you for the new you.” She softly reassured, as you both turned toward the window to glance toward the family, as you let out a low sigh to release the tension. Hearing about your aunt always did give way to annoyance eventually.

“Forget her for today, unless she show up. We’re here for family, the family that’s here.” She added on, while you both started walking outside to step out into the backyard, hearing ‘Let’s stay together’ beginning to play. Having a soft smile curl onto your lips at seeing familiar yet distant faces, as you went to go grab a drink from the red cooler.

After grabbing a wine cooler from the ice, you opened it with a soft crack coming from the broken seal, as you took a light swig. Glancing out over the yard, with your gaze landing on a few family members.

Your Uncles in a group by the grill, sitting on lawn chairs nursing a beer or a cigarette, and speaking of the latest football games as their loud laughter rang out through the yard, while sitting under a tree in the shade against the warm sun.

Your dad and Chris both standing by the grill, watching the children go about playing with one another with the water balloons and the older kids in the pool, since they went about playing with the beach ball, every so often hitting it out of the pool.

Your mom and aunts settled near the food, softly fanning it with paper plates and covering it back up, after one of your cousins was ‘testing if it was safe’ for you all and giving a nod while you all gave a small chuckle at his actions.

At another table, your cousins were playing spade, as you could hear the usual accusations coming from them that brought a soft giggle from your lips, as you walked over.

“You over here reneging. You know damn well that book was mine.”

“Nawl, you can’t cut spade you cheating motherfu-.” Their words were cut short as one of the children had briefly tripped, and a few of you were holding chuckles and making sure to not look at the baby knowing they would cry if you did.

Eventually the little girl got back up and continued giggling as she ran from getting hit by a water balloon.

“With yo non playing ass.” They finished their sentence a moment later after seeing the kids go by. “Switch to uno.”

And not even long after switching to uno, they were back arguing with you even in the game.

“Bet, bet. So if you wanna drop a draw four and make a train of plus fours, how bout I not draw any?”

“Nawl, you gonna get every last card. Pick up that deck.”

“You ain’t exempt from the rules, pick that shit up and get to playing. Color red.”

“At least there ain’t no more fours.” Alexis muttered, as you gave her a look and her face dropped. “Don’t start that shi-“

Before she could finished, you dropped a blank card and spoke looking over all of them.

“Each of y’all get eight from the deck, get to drawing.”

A brief silence followed as they all turned to you, especially Mike, that just drew sixteen cards, and then pulling an annoyed sounds from each of them as you chuckled.

“You got me fucked up, to hell with that game. Just drew sixteen damn cards.” Mike spoke as he was starting to get up, before Alexis made it worse dropping another blank card and muttering ‘Same deal, but even you drawing this time.’

As you all were going through your chaotic uno game, Chris and your father were still manning the grill along with chuckling softly at a dad joke your dad had made.

Letting out a soft sigh as your old man looked out over the yard at the smiling faces, as he turned to Chris with a gruff smile. “Never imagined we could have you all back in this yard with all those bio- whatever organisms be after y’all. Nice to have you both either the kids back home safe. Vianne would have had a fit later on if you two couldn’t make it.

At the mention of ‘bio weapons’ Chris almost let out a chuckle, despite the light hardening within his eyes, before they softened at seeing Verena tossing the beach ball and hitting one of her cousins on the forehead. “Yeah, I’d imagined that she would. Kids be keeping us on our toes at home, more than the job does when we get breaks.”

A small nod was given from your father as he lowly responded. “You know, Vianne been thinking about getting the kids together for a sleepover tonight. Give y’all a break for tonight, even a small one. Might be time for you all to give more small additions to the family.”

At that, Chris took a moment to process the words, before letting out a laugh that nearly made him drop the tongs fore he caught them, pulling the beer back up to his lips to take a brief swig and respond. “Smooth with that one, yet that would be a conversation for me and the missus.”

“Sides, I remember somebody saying that they ain’t want ‘no more lil hellions running up and down their house’?” He lowly repeated as he raised an eyebrow, while your father key out a soft hum, clearly caught.

“I’m getting old, I don’t remember uttering that, not even a word. Lies and deceit.” He lowly spoke, even though he clearly remembered that conversation after having to change one of the younger children’s diapers after a bad food incident.

The comment managing to pull a low chuckle from Chris, as he had a soft grin on his face and muttered a low, “alright then, if you say so”.

Eventually food was fully off the grill, and children were changed from the wet clothing into dry ones, and food was served. It was slightly quiet outside with only soft chatter and the occasional laugh being heard, as you all were enjoying the peaceful moments with family, knowing this could be a cherished new memory made for you.