I’m daydreaming and just imagining reader being self conscious of her body after giving birth and geralt just being fluffy and sweet and not liking her putting herself down and yeh
A/N: This makes me soft. I hope you like this babe!!
Warning: This fic does have quite a bit of mentioning of body image issues and postpartum issues many women face. I did my best to google things because I’ve never had a kid so I don’t know what postpartum is like but I hope I did somewhat decently with it.
You gazed into the mirror, admiring the way the deep red silk material of your dress hugged your chest. You brushed your hand down the material and over your stomach, frowning as your eyes settled there. The little smile that had been on your lips faded almost instantly.
You didn’t like the way the dress looked, the way the material seemed to amplify your slightly sagging stomach. Now that you were focused on it, your stomach seemed suddenly much bigger than it actually was and the thought of wearing that dress in public made you sick. You couldn’t go to Cirilla’s birthday celebration looking like that.
You turned your back to the mirror, biting back the tears as you shook your head.
You just had Bram not even two months ago, Y/N. You just need time to bounce back and everything will be okay!
No matter how many times you told yourself that, there was another voice in the back of your head that spoke up, growing louder and louder as it pointed out all of your insecurities.
The extra weight you’d put on. The way your arms jiggled when you moved them or the way a double chin formed when you looked down. The way none of your clothes fit comfortably, except for your maternity clothes.
You reached behind yourself to pull the ties on the dress, letting out a breath as the material loosened around your torso. You pushed the dress down and let the silk pool at your ankles.
The door to the room opened and you hastily moved to retrieve the throw at the foot of your bed.
Your husband stepped in, brows drawing together as he saw you move quickly, snatching the throw and using it to cover yourself.
“It’s just me, dove.”
You nodded but still kept the throw tight to you, holding it just beneath your chin.
He stood there for a moment, assessing what had just happened. Was something wrong?
“Are, um, Are you ready? Yennefer is growing rather impatient.”
You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment, dropping your eyes to the floor as you shook your head.
“I-I don’t feel good, Geralt. I don’t think I should go.”
“What do you mean?” Geralt took a few steps towards you but you shook your head, stepping away from him until your back bumped into the wall.
His breath caught in his throat, shoulders tensing up as he watched you carefully. Your eyes were full of too many emotions for him to decipher them all. Fear. Worry. Dread. Concern.
“Y/N.” He murmured your name.
“Just-Just go without me, okay?” You whispered, trying to force a smile on to your lips as you shook your head but the tears in your eyes swelled up and blurred your vision. “Take Bram. I-I know Eist and Calanthe would love to see him and-and Ciri adores him.”
“Please tell me what is wrong.” Geralt quietly begged. “You were so excited to go earlier today. We’ve been talking about going all week.”
“Yes, but I-I just….” You trailed off, unable to come up with a good answer, one that wasn’t necessarily the truth. You didn’t want to tell your husband that you were ashamed of your body, of the body he claimed to love so dearly.
“Cirilla would be devastated if you didn’t come.”
You closed your eyes tightly, shaking your head as your head fell forward. One hand clutched the throw to your chest while the other covered your face.
“I’m so sorry, Geralt.” You cried quietly. “I-I’m sorry. You deserve so, so much better.”
Wordlessly, Geralt crossed the room. You didn’t even notice this so when his hand took ahold of your wrist to pull your hand from your face, you flinched. He carefully pried your hand from your face and then hooked two fingers beneath your chin to tilt your head up.
He used the pad of his thumb to brush the tears from your damp cheeks. His liquid gold eyes were studying you, concerned, worried.
He had an idea about what it was that could be upsetting you. You were holding the throw to your body as if it was your life source. You were shielding yourself from his eyes, from your husband’s eyes. He’d seen you naked before. Hell, he witnessed you give birth to his son. There could only be one reason why you were suddenly hiding your body from him.
“Please tell me why you think that I deserve better?” He whispered, warm breath fanning over your face.
“I-I’m the size of a fucking cow, Geralt.” You dropped your gaze to focus on the wolf pendant. “My stomach is all wrinkly and there are stretchmarks all over me. I-I look disgusting.”
“Y/N.” He said your name with a scolding tone, though he was gentle. “You are not disgusting. You are the woman I love.”
“The woman you love died when she had a child.” You muttered.
Geralt took your chin in his hold once more and tilted your head up.
“The woman I love brought my son into this world.” He kissed your forehead. “I love you, Y/N. How you look doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does!” You couldn’t help but raise your voice, pushing against his chest but you would’ve had better luck pushing a brick wall. “You fell in love with me, why? Because-Because of my charming personality? Fuck that, Geralt! My personality is absolute shit!”
You were just angry with yourself. He didn’t deserve your outburst and you knew this.
“I fell in love with you, Y/N. With the stupid jokes you tell me and the way you smile when you see a cow in a field or a children chasing each other. I fell in love with how you treated me when we first met. I wasn’t a witcher to you. You didn’t treat me like some stupid mutant. You are kind and generous and I can’t imagine myself with another.” He shook his head.
“But all of that, all of you falling in love with me…. There’s a sexual aspect to it too.” You told him, adamant on getting him to admit that you were hideous. You wanted the truth. You didn’t want him to lie to you to make you feel better. “You liked me, my body, what I had to offer in that sense.”
He sighed heavily through his nose.
“When I fell in love with you, Y/N, I fell in love with all of you. This body, your body, made my son, and this body feeds him. Now is no different than before. If anything, I actually enjoy this.” He brought his hands up to your shoulders.
“You enjoy me looking like a cow?”
“Stop saying that.” He softly demanded, shaking his head. “No, my love. You are warm and comforting and so fucking sexy. This is bigger.” His hands trailed to your backside, squeezing you firmly. “And so are other things.”
His eyes shamelessly looked down at your chest, which was poorly covered with the throw.
“I enjoy every part of you, dove, and I am in love with you. With your thighs and how warm they are in my hands. With your stomach and how soft it is when I lay my head upon it, and how you carried my son for nine long months inside of you. Nothing could ever change my love for you, Y/N.”
You almost believed him, but then that voice continued to tell you that he was lying. You shook your head, eyes falling to the floor again.
He put his hand on the throw and tried to pull it away from you but you held it firmly.
“Dove. Let me.” He murmured.
You hesitated, still holding the throw with white knuckles. You finally let it go and held your breath, eyes squeezing shut tightly.
You expected a gasp or some noise of repulsion. You expected him to flee even.
But instead, he pulled you in for a hug, large arms wrapping around you and drawing you into his chest.
“You are the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen in all my years.” He breathed into your hair.
The breath you had held left your lips and cries shook your shoulders. You melted into his touch, burying your face in his chest.
“You are strong, Y/N. You carried Bram for nine months, and it wasn’t easy. I know it wasn’t. Watching you struggle with the aches and pains and with the loss of balance and the sickness…. I love you.”
“But I’m-I’m covered in stretchmarks. My stomach, it’s-it’s-,”
“It is beautiful, just like you. They make you who you are now. You’re a mother, Y/N.” Geralt pulled away to look down at you, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. “And the best one I’ve ever seen.”
You looked down at your stomach for a moment.
“You don’t…. You don’t think it’s gross?”
He gave you a little smile before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“No, my sweet dove. I don’t think it’s gross. And neither should you.”
You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.
“If you truly don’t want to go, then I can take Jaskier and Bram with me.” Geralt rubbed your back with one large hand. “You can stay here and get a bath, maybe catch up on some much needed sleep. Do you want to go?”
“I do.” You nodded. “It’d be lovely to see Calanthe and Eist.”
“Then let’s get you dressed.” Geralt kissed you softly and then picked up your dress that you had discarded on the floor.
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