โยทห เผ * EMMETT CULLEN HEADCANONS ๐ฬธ.แ
๐ youโre a single mom
you moved to forks with your baby daughter after a messy breakup.
you needed a fresh start. something quiet, a place where no one knew your name or asked too many questions.
forks was perfect. grey skies. cheap rent. a little too quiet, maybe, but safe.
your first week in town is uneventful until you run into them, the cullens. gorgeous, odd, too perfect to be real. rosalie glares. alice smiles politely. edward barely looks at you. but emmettโฆ emmett stares.
he sees you holding your daughter at the grocery store and nearly drops a bag of flour. (he never drops anything.)
his throat burns like fire, and yet his chest aches in a way it never has before. not just because youโre his blood singer. youโre his mate.
he doesnโt approach at first. itโs too much. you smell like home and desire and danger all at once. and thereโs a baby. your baby. that throws him completely off-beat.
carlisle explains that itโs rare, but not impossible. a vampire finding a human and becoming drawn to their blood. itโs intense. risky. dangerous if emmett loses control. so he keeps his distanceโฆ at first.
you notice him. of course you do. heโs huge, charming, and always at the diner you like.
he doesnโt speak to you, but he watches you like heโs trying to memorize your expressions, like youโre someone sacred.
it starts small. one rainy morning your car wonโt start outside the daycare, and he appears like a knight in shining armor (or in this case, a rain-soaked hoodie).
โneed a hand?โ his voice is deep and oddly gentle. it rumbles right through you.
after that, he starts popping up more. holding doors open. fixing your mailbox. helping you carry groceries. you donโt question it. youโre too tired, too grateful. and heโs so good with your daughter it makes your chest ache.
she adores him. giggles every time she sees him. she drooled on his shirt once and he wore it the rest of the day like a badge of honor.
the others start to notice how emmett changes around you. heโs softer. protective. less reckless. rosalie is cold toward you, but emmett stays firm. you are his.
you eventually invite him in for coffee (well, you have coffee. he holds a mug and pretends). you tell him about your past. the way your ex left. the way you donโt trust easily. emmett listens like every word is gold.
he never rushes you. never touches without asking. never looks at you like a burden.
itโs in the way he cradles your daughterโs head, the way he asks about your job, the way he doesnโt flinch when she throws up on his hoodie.
one night, sheโs teething and wonโt stop crying. youโre exhausted. emmett hears from outside, he always lingers near your place just in case and knocks gently.
โwant some help?โ he holds her for hours, humming softly, swaying back and forth like he was born to be a dad.
that night, you cry into his shoulder. he holds you like youโre breakable. like youโre the most precious thing heโs ever touched.
you still donโt know what he is. not yet. heโs waiting for the right time. waiting until youโre ready to hear it. because this love. itโs slow, but itโs real.
and one day, when you look at him and say, โi feel safe with you,โ he knows. he knows heโs not just your mate. heโs home. for both of you.
emmett knows he has to tell you. he feels like a liar every time he holds your baby, every time you laugh at one of his dumb jokes, every time you fall asleep on the couch next to him while a cartoon plays in the background.
he doesnโt want you to find out the hard way. youโve been through enough. but heโs terrified. not for himself, for you.
what if you run? what if you take your daughter and disappear, and he never sees either of you again?
so he waits for the right moment. and it comes on a quiet night when your daughter is finally asleep, and youโre curled up beside him on the couch.
rain taps the windows, and you look at him and whisper, โyouโre notโฆ normal, are you?โ
his eyes soften. โno. iโm not.โ
when he tells you the truth. about the cullens, about himself, about the way your blood nearly destroyed him the day he first saw you, your first instinct isnโt fear. itโs awe.
because somehow, it makes everything make sense. the way he always knew where you were. the way he never ate. the way he carried your heavy stroller with one hand like it weighed nothing.
โyouโreโฆ a vampire,โ you repeat, more curious than afraid.
โyeah,โ he says, quietly. โbut i would never hurt you. or her. iโd tear myself apart before i ever let that happen.โ
and the way his voice shakes? the way his eyes stay locked on you, desperate, afraid, pleading? you believe him.
thereโs space after that. not distance, but breathing room. you need time to process, and he gives you that. no pressure. no expectations.
just him, still showing up every morning to walk you out to your car, still showing up with pacifiers and bottles and a new stuffed animal โhe saw and thought sheโd like.โ
he doesnโt push to hold your daughter anymore but she reaches for him anyway. emmett melts every time. that tiny little hand grabbing his thumb? heโd go to war for her.
one night she calls him โmett.โ just โmett.โ and he goes completely still. โdid sheโdid she justโ?โ you laugh, tell him itโs her version of his name. he doesnโt stop smiling for hours.
slowly, the relationship shifts. you fall in love with him in the quiet moments:
when he rocks her to sleep without you asking.
when he calls just to check if youโve eaten.
when he keeps a baby blanket in his jeep โjust in case.โ
when he says, โsheโs lucky to have you,โ and his voice cracks.
he falls in love with the way you hum while making breakfast. the way you know exactly how to soothe your daughterโs cries. the way you still carry the world on your back, but never let it show.
itโs slow. intimate. earned.
the first time he kisses you, itโs after a long, hard day. youโre holding your baby on your hip, your hairโs a mess, and you whisper, โi donโt know what iโd do without you.โ and his hand gently cups your cheek like heโs afraid youโll disappear if he blinks.
โyou wonโt ever have to find out,โ he says, voice low.
and then he kisses you like youโre the only thing thatโs ever mattered.
emmett notices everything. if your shoulders slump, if your voice gets quiet, if you sigh a little too deeply while folding laundry, heโs already moving.
heโs the type to scoop you up off the couch bridal style and just carry you to bed.
โiโve got it, babe. you close your eyes. iโll finish the rest.โ
he keeps a mental log of what makes you feel better when youโre overwhelmed:
soft blankets fresh from the dryer.
your favorite hoodie (which he โborrowsโ and stretches out)
a warm drink handed to you without a word.
his arms wrapped around you while you sit in silence.
you once offhandedly mentioned your feet hurt. that night, he showed up with a foot bath, fuzzy socks, and a whole-ass spa kit he had alice help him pick out. โgotta pamper my girl.โ
he plans late-night โliving room datesโ once your daughterโs asleep. lights turned low, soft music playing, takeout on the coffee table, and his hoodie draped over your shoulders.
one time, he cleared out the cullen garage, filled it with fairy lights, and set up a movie projector just for you two. โdidnโt wanna deal with a crowd. plus, i get you all to myself this way.โ
he keeps a little list on his phone titled โdate ideas for my girl.โ
picnic in a wildflower field (he carries you over the mud)
stargazing from the roof of his jeep.
surprise bookstore visits.
midnight swims in a hidden forest lake (โyou gotta trust me, babeโitโs not that cold.โ)
he constantly calls you cute things:
โmamaโ (with a flirty grin, not just because youโre a mom)
and โmy girl,โ said like a promise every single time.
he worships your body. stretch marks? c-section scar? under-eye circles? he kisses every inch and says, โthis? this is beautiful. this gave me both of you. iโd kiss the ground you walk on.โ
he randomly texts you pictures of flowers with, โthis reminded me of you.โ
one time you cried from exhaustion, and he just knelt in front of you, took your hands, and whispered, โyou donโt have to do this alone. iโm here. always.โ
emmett makes it very clear. your daughter is the light of his life, but you are the fire. the anchor. the girl who stopped time the moment he saw her.
he buys you a little bracelet that has your daughterโs birthstone and yours together. wears the matching one himself. โmy girls. always with me.โ
one morning, the three of you are in the living room together. you watch their interactions with soft eyes and laughter fills the house.
heโs been making her laugh for ten straight minutes. silly voices, fake sneezes, dramatically โlosingโ her toys only to โfindโ them behind his back. itโs nothing new. he does this every day, like itโs the most important job in the world.
and maybe it is. because suddenly, right in the middle of her giggle, she pats his chest with a tiny, wobbly hand and says:
emmett doesnโt move. doesnโt speak. his eyes flick to yours immediately, wide and stunned. like he doesnโt even believe it happened. like he needs you to confirm itโs real.
he sits up slowly, like any sudden movement will scare the word away.
โdid you hear that?โ he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
you blink, heart in your throat. โiโฆ i think so.โ
and then she says it again. louder this time. happier. like she knows itโs him. like itโs always been him.
emmett lets out this quiet, breathless sound. somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and immediately turns to you.
โshe said dada,โ he murmurs, like the word is sacred. โshe called me dada.โ
he reaches for you before he even picks her up. wraps one arm around your waist and the other around her, holding both of you close like he never wants to let go.
his face is pressed into your shoulder, and you can feel him shaking. not from fear, but from something deeper. something full.
โshe meant me,โ he says softly, voice breaking. โshe chose me.โ
and you just nod, eyes full. โof course she did.โ
he pulls back to look at her, brushing his thumb over her tiny cheek with so much care, like sheโs something precious. then he looks at you with that same softness.
โthank you,โ he whispers. โthank you, thank you, thank you.โ
heโs been called a lot of things in his long life. brute, beast, protector, vampire, but dada? that one just bring him to his knees.
when he proposes (because you know that man will), itโs not over-the-top. itโs just him, on one knee in the kitchen while your daughter plays in the background. โyou already made me the happiest man in the worldโlet me make it official.โ
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