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sarahth2 · 10 hours ago

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Okay I know it’s late but how about another birthday scenario with Erik Campbell where he shares/celebrates his birthday with his baby who just turned 1 at the family barbecue with the rest of the Campbell-Reyes family 😍 And a cutesy moment with reader

Birthday Wishes

The scent of charcoal and sizzling meat hung heavy in the air, a familiar perfume of summer and celebration. Sunlight, filtered through the oak tree’s broad canopy, dappled the vast stretch of green lawn. The Campbell backyard, usually a quiet expanse, hummed with a symphony of laughter, distant shouts from the trampoline, and the rhythmic clack of Jenga blocks. You watched from the patio, a half-empty glass of iced tea sweating in your hand, a contented smile curving your lips.

Erik, brown hair tousled and catching the light, knelt by the baby pool. His blue eyes, usually intense behind the glint of his septum piercing, softened as he dipped a tiny, plastic duck into the water. Tattoos snaked up his arms, intricate patterns of ink contrasting with Hazel’s delicate, sun-kissed skin. She sat in the shallow water, a small, pink swimsuit barely containing her wiggling limbs, her own wisps of brown hair plastered to her forehead. A tiny hand reached out, splashing water with joyous abandon.

“Look, little ducky!” Erik’s voice, usually a low rumble, adopted a higher, playful tone. He pushed the duck closer to her, and Hazel, a gurgle of pure delight escaping her lips, grabbed it with surprising force.

Brenda, Erik’s mom, a vision in a floral dress, approached with a plate piled high with sliders. “Howard just flipped the last of the burgers. Are you two ready to eat?” Her blonde hair, perfectly coiffed, framed a warm, welcoming smile.

Erik looked up, a splash of water clinging to his cheek. “Almost, Mom. Hazel’s having a crisis with her duck.” He winked, then turned back to Hazel, helping her dunk the duck again.

Howard, Erik’s dad, his beard flecked with grey, emerged from behind the grill, tongs in hand. “Crisis averted, I see. Good work, son.” His blue eyes twinkled. “You’re a natural with the little ones.”

“It’s amazing what a year can do,” you murmured, stepping closer, the warmth of the sun on your skin a gentle caress. Hazel’s laugh, a bright, clear sound, rose above the general chatter. It was the purest sound you knew.

“She’s a fast learner,” Erik said, scooping Hazel carefully from the pool, wrapping her in a fluffy towel. She clung to him, a tiny starfish, her head nestled against his tattooed shoulder. “Already bossing me around.”

“Oh, just wait,” Brenda chuckled, patting Erik’s arm. “It only gets worse. And more expensive.”

“Don’t listen to her, sweet pea,” Erik whispered to Hazel, pressing a soft kiss to her damp hair. “You can boss me around all you want.” He looked at you, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “She’s got me wrapped around her tiny finger.”

“I think she’s got us both,” you replied, reaching out to gently tickle Hazel’s foot. She squirmed, a delighted giggle bubbling up.

“Brenda, the cake is ready for candles!” Julia, Erik’s 18-year-old sister, called from the patio table, her long blonde hair swaying as she leaned over a large, colourful cake. “Both of them!”

“Coming, dear!” Brenda hurried inside, Howard following, discussing the merits of charcoal versus gas grills.

Erik carried Hazel over to the picnic blanket spread beneath the oak tree. “Time for some grub, little one.” He settled her onto the blanket, carefully unwrapping her from the towel. You handed him a small plate of pureed sweet potato and chicken, which Hazel promptly tried to grab with both hands.

“Slow down, speed demon,” Erik chuckled, guiding the spoon to her mouth. “It’s not going anywhere.”

Bobby, Erik’s 16-year-old brother, bounded past, a small green shell cupped in his hands. “Erik, look! Paco’s awake!”

Erik glanced up, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, hello there, Paco. Enjoying the sunshine?”

Bobby carefully placed the small turtle on the blanket, a tiny, ancient creature with eyes like pinpricks and leathery skin. Paco, unfazed by the commotion, slowly extended his neck, surveying his new surroundings with an air of profound indifference. Hazel, spotting the moving shell, let out a soft gasp of wonder, her eyes wide.

“Don’t touch, sweetie,” you cautioned gently, though she remained mesmerized, her attention fully captured by the slow, deliberate movements of the turtle.

“He’s pretty old, huh?” Bobby knelt beside Paco, tracing a finger lightly over his shell. “Dad says he’s been in the family forever.”

“Longer than you, that’s for sure,” Erik said, a playful glint in his eye. “He’s seen a lot of birthdays in this yard.” He continued feeding Hazel, occasionally glancing at Paco, a nostalgic expression on his face.

Stefani, Erik’s cousin, her brown hair pulled back in a casual ponytail, approached with a plate of fruit. “Anyone want some melon? Charlie, stop trying to stack the Jenga tower to the sky!” Her voice carried a playful exasperation.

A loud *CRASH* echoed from the Jenga table, followed by a chorus of groans. Charlie, Stefani’s brother, emerged from behind the table, rubbing his head. “It was almost perfect!”

“Almost doesn’t count when it’s a tower of doom,” Stefani retorted, shaking her head. “Come on, Bobby, let’s get some more juice.” She gestured towards the cooler.

Bobby, after carefully nudging Paco into a safer spot under the shade of a bush, followed Stefani. The backyard settled into a comfortable buzz of conversation and the clinking of plates.

You watched Erik, his large hand gently guiding a spoon to Hazel’s mouth. The tattoos on his arms, usually associated with his art, with the sharp needles and the hum of the machine, now seemed to soften, to become a part of the tender scene. He looked up, catching your gaze, and offered a soft, knowing smile. “She’s getting so big, isn’t she?”

“Too fast,” you agreed, a pang of bittersweet emotion in your chest. “It feels like just yesterday we brought her home.”

“Feels like a lifetime,” he corrected, his voice low. “A good lifetime.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Best year ever.”

A sudden, sharp *SPLAT* made you jump. Hazel, with surprising dexterity, had smacked her hand into her bowl of sweet potato, sending orange puree flying. A dollop landed squarely on Erik’s cheek.

He blinked, then slowly wiped his cheek, a laugh bubbling up from his chest. “Oh, you little monster! You got me!” He scooped a tiny amount of puree from her hand and gently dabbed it on her nose. “Now you’ve got a sweet potato nose!”

Hazel giggled, reaching up to touch her nose, then promptly smeared the puree across her forehead. You pulled out a wet wipe, shaking your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “You two are a mess.”

“It’s a good mess,” Erik declared, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “A happy mess.” He held Hazel close, nuzzling her neck, making her shriek with laughter.

“Alright, everybody! Cake time!” Brenda’s voice rang out, drawing everyone’s attention to the patio. Julia held a lit candle on a small cupcake, and another, larger candle flickered atop a magnificent, multi-tiered cake decorated with whimsical flowers.

Erik carefully lifted Hazel, carrying her towards the patio. Her eyes, wide and curious, fixed on the flickering flames. “Look, Hazel,” he whispered, “fire!”

“She’s going to blow out her first candle!” Brenda beamed, clapping her hands. Howard stood beside her, his arm around her waist, a proud smile on his face.

“And Erik’s 26th!” Julia added, holding out the cupcake. “You’re officially old, big brother.”

Erik rolled his eyes playfully. “Says the teenager who still asks for rides everywhere.”

“I’m eighteen!” Julia protested, a dramatic sigh escaping her lips.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” the familiar melody filled the air, sung with varying degrees of enthusiasm and off-key notes. Hazel, sensing the excitement, clapped her tiny hands, a joyous squeal escaping her.

Erik held her steady as everyone sang. When the song ended, he leaned in, helping Hazel purse her lips and blow. A tiny puff of air, and the candle on the cupcake flickered, then died.

“Hooray!” Brenda clapped louder, her eyes shining.

“My turn!” Erik declared, taking a deep breath and extinguishing the larger candle with a single, powerful puff. A cloud of sweet smoke rose into the air.

“Make a wish, Erik!” Bobby shouted, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Erik looked down at Hazel, then at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I think I already have everything I wished for.” His gaze lingered on Hazel, a profound tenderness in his eyes.

Brenda started cutting slices of cake, and the chaos of plates and forks began. Erik found a quiet spot on the grass, settling Hazel on his lap. He carefully scraped a tiny bit of frosting from her cake and offered it to her. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth like a baby bird. A sugary sweetness exploded on her tongue, and her whole body wiggled with delight.

“Oh, she likes it,” you laughed, watching her expression.

“She’s got a sweet tooth, just like her dad,” Erik said, a proud smirk on his face. He let her have another tiny taste, then wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Alright, that’s enough sugar for you, little one. We don’t want a sugar rush before nap time.”

The afternoon wore on, a tapestry of simple joys. Bobby and Julia took turns on the trampoline, their laughter echoing through the yard. Stefani and Charlie restarted the Jenga game, their concentration intense. Howard and Brenda reminisced about past birthdays, their voices a comforting murmur.

Erik sat with Hazel, letting her play with a colorful stack of rings. He pointed out the different colors, his voice a gentle murmur, teaching her the names. He didn’t rush, didn’t push, simply allowed her to explore, offering quiet guidance. He was completely absorbed in her, a quiet reverence in his every movement.

“She’s really taken to you,” you commented, sitting beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder. “From day one.”

“She’s my little shadow,” he said, his fingers gently tracing the curve of Hazel’s cheek. “My best girl.” He paused, then looked at you. “And you’re my other best girl.” He kissed your hair, a soft, lingering touch.

“Gross,” Julia called out, feigning disgust from the trampoline. “Get a room!”

Erik chuckled, shaking his head. “Kids these days.”

Later, as the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, the energy of the party began to wane. The air grew cooler, carrying the fading scent of barbecue and the faint sweetness of cake. Hazel, worn out from all the excitement, drifted off to sleep in Erik’s arms, her head nestled against his chest, her tiny hand clutching his tattooed finger.

He carried her inside, his movements slow and deliberate, as if she were made of spun glass. You followed, watching the quiet tenderness of the moment. He laid her in her crib, adjusting the blanket, and stood there for a long moment, simply watching her breathe.

When he emerged, he found you on the patio, watching the last of the guests gather their things. Bobby was carefully putting Paco back into his terrarium, murmuring soft goodnights to the turtle. Stefani and Charlie were helping Brenda clear the plates.

“She’s out cold,” Erik whispered, sinking onto the patio chair beside you. He reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. His tattoos felt warm against your skin. “Best birthday ever.”

“Even with the sweet potato facial?” you teased, a soft smile playing on your lips.

He laughed, a low, contented sound. “Especially with the sweet potato facial. It means she loves me.” He squeezed your hand. “No big parties, no fancy gifts. Just this. Just us. It’s perfect.”

“It really is,” you agreed, leaning your head on his shoulder. The last rays of sunlight cast long shadows across the yard, painting the trampoline and the Jenga table in a golden glow. The quiet hum of the evening, the fading chatter of family, the warmth of Erik’s hand in yours – it was a symphony of contentment.

Howard and Brenda approached, their faces etched with a day’s worth of happy exhaustion. “We’re heading in,” Brenda said, her voice soft. “Long day for everyone.”

“Thanks for everything, Mom, Dad,” Erik said, looking up at them. “It was great.”

“Anytime, son,” Howard replied, a hand resting on Erik’s shoulder. “Happy birthday, both of you. You’ve given us the greatest gift of all.” He gestured vaguely towards the house, towards Hazel’s room, a profound love in his eyes.

As they went inside, the backyard grew quieter still. Only the distant chirping of crickets and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze broke the silence. Erik shifted, pulling you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Remember when we first talked about having kids?” he mused, his voice a low rumble. “It felt so far away. So…adult.”

“It still feels a little surreal sometimes,” you admitted, tracing the intricate lines of a tattoo on his arm. “Like she just appeared, fully formed and perfect.”

“She is perfect,” he said, his voice laced with unwavering conviction. “Absolutely perfect.” He turned his head, pressing a kiss to your hair. “You made her perfect.”

“We made her perfect,” you corrected, looking up at him. His blue eyes, reflecting the fading light, held a depth of emotion that always took your breath away.

“Yeah,” he murmured, a soft smile playing on his lips. “We did.” He leaned back, pulling you into his side, and together you watched the stars begin to prick through the deepening twilight, a quiet, contented end to a day filled with laughter, love, and the sweet, sticky joy of a first birthday.

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