See Me Differently, I Beg You(Alpha!Geralt x Omega!Jaskier)

Cravings

They'd been traveling for days now, stopping each night to make camp. They would have been there by now, had Geralt not been such a damned worrywart. And frankly, it was driving Jaskier mad. He could appreciate being helped with a thing or two, but the hovering had to stop. "Geralt. I'm not made of glass." He'd tell him, and he'd let up. Just a bit. For a little while. But the Witcher was always so cautious. Especially with someone who was just bound to get into trouble.

At least they'd both be getting some rest tonight at this inn. Jaskier would love to be able to actually bathe for once. As much as he loved smelling like horse and Geralt...

Speaking of horses....

The first few days of riding Roach-because Geralt refused to let Jaskier walk-were hell for his nausea. Oh but it was all so worth having the Witcher's strong arms wrapped around him.

Now that they were off the road he began to miss them.

Jaskier tossed off his boots, sinking down onto the bed with a heavy groan. The last few days had not been kind to him. His body ached. His feet were sore. His hunger raged.

Ah yes. His appetite. Jaskier had been craving nothing but meat for the whole trip. Jerky could only satisfy him for so long. But good, fresh, blood still running warm meat-the fresher, the better.

They, or rather Geralt, had found this out in a rather gruesome way. After just felling a deer he had instructed Jaskier to return to camp while he cleaned it up. His reasoning was so as not to upset his stomach. But the bard remained. And at first he thought it was solely out of pure stubbornness.

Until he saw his face. His blown pupils. Eyes that were transfixed on the animal. On the meat he was carving.

That could have been excused as hunger. Sure. But then came nightfall. Geralt was a light sleeper. Even the slightest shift could rouse him. So when Jaskier got up in the middle of the night it woke him. Though he remained silent, he listened for the bard's return.

It must have been a bathroom trip. Geralt had been forcing the bard to drink more water lately, so it wasn't too worrying that Jaskier would get up in the middle of the night for that. What was worrying, however, was the crunching.

Geralt found a half awake Jaskier just a few feet away from their tent. Crouching besides the smoldering remains of their campfire. He could excuse late night snacking. He needed the energy for the life growing inside him. It wasn't until he saw just what he was snacking on that Geralt's stomach actually turned. Now, he's seen some Shit over the years. But a sleepwalking man making himself a gruesome snack? That was up there.

He could only assume the fuzzy tail sticking out of Jaskier's blood covered mouth belonged to a squirrel. Perhaps the same squirrel Jaskier had complained about earlier that day. Because it had been "a right pest" and kept chucking things at them.

Geralt had to help soothe Jaskier once a particularly loud crunch woke him up from his hunger fueled trance fully. And he hurled the poor squirrel's remains right back up. What worried Jaskier most was how... good it tasted. If he ignored the fur and the bones, that is. Both of which he spent hours trying to pick out of his teeth amidst his gross sobbing.

Geralt took to making sure Jaskier didn't go to bed hungry after that.

Why Jaskier had such... bloody midnight cravings, Geralt didn't know. He could only hazard a guess it was his doing. After all, Geralt wasn't human. So naturally whatever Jaskier was carrying wouldn't be either.

"Oh no you don't." Jaskier pat the bed beside him, glaring at the bedroll Geralt was rolling out over the floor. "Get in this bed, Witcher."

"Don't think there's any room up there for me." He chuckled. And that was true, the bed was quite small. It was the only one the inn had available. And Geralt was fine with Jaskier having it.