/yandere/ Covetous


                                            >"Anonymous?"

                                            "Yes, Rarity?"

                                            >"The red bolt, please. Number four."

                                            "Of course."

                                            >You check through the fabric racks

                                            >She said that before you came along, she didn't have time to properly sort everything out

                                            >You believe it too

                                            >It took a month of solid work on your end to sort everything out

                                            >Apparently you have an eye for colors

                                            >You didn't know that

                                            "Number... four. You know, we're getting pretty bare on it."

                                            >"I recall you mentioning that, Anonymous. I'm hoping this will be juuuust enough to finish."

                                            >You pull out the bolt and approach the white unicorn from behind

                                            >She has at least a dozen more needles in a pin cushion strapped to her foreleg

                                            >Her mane is only 90% styled, showing that this has taken up more than enough focus to dent her natural poise

                                            >You can understand the weight of the craft

                                            >It is a wedding dress, after all

                                            >White with just enough red accent interwoven into the edges and front to make it come across as almost...

                                            >Daunting?

                                            >Or is the word you're looking for "intimidating"?

                                            "Aren't most wedding dresses white?"

                                            >"Indeed they are. But the client... well, she is a little on the special side. Her stallion-her husband-is a rather hapless fellow. I'm afraid that if she told him everything on how she felt about him, he may head for the hills out of embarrassment. Or panic. His beliefs on love, if she was telling the truth, are so adorable I can't help but wonder if he thinks the honeymoon is just when they go to a fancy hotel and eat honey-glazed croissants."

                                            >You aren't one for gossip but Rarity giggles like a mischievous schoolgirl

                                            >"Ohh, this dress will be perfect for her! It will turn her into an absolute empress."

                                            "And what will the emperor-to-be be sporting?"

                                            >To be honest, you don't have much else to do

                                            >Aaaaaaaand if you can find the right way, you can melt off hours of the day by talking to her

                                            >Though most of the time, it comes down to you asking her things and her talking without end

                                            >You'll admit it

                                            >The voice is one reason why you've been so keen on helping her with things

                                            >The pay isn't bad either

                                            >Rarity giggles

                                            >Something almost threatening, if you see the grins she makes

                                            >"Oh, he's not emperor material, darling. But... he will absolutely be her shield. And her lance! Wahaha ha!"

                                            >Now in a frenzy of inspiration, you step back to distance yourself from the massacre of the red fabric

                                            >A pair of scissors slice through everything into the exact shape

                                            >You know that she has other tools but for some reason those are the ones that she defaults to the most

                                            >You've also had to sharpen them over at least once a week

                                            >Truly frightful instruments of creation

                                            >The cackling mare ends her crazed assault on the model pone by sticking in ten of the pins all around the waist

                                            >Red lining around the edges, and a woven red length to act as a possible belt?

                                            >Or sash

                                            >Something

                                            >She hardly ever explains why she does what she does

                                            >The pins are just an indicator that it may yet not be permanent

                                            >Turning around, Rarity holds her head high to you

                                            >"And that, my dear... is it for today."

                                            >You nod and give a small golf clap

                                            >She graciously bows with mewlings of humble gratitude

                                            >It...

                                            >Is sort of a game

                                            >You think...

                                            >The first time she asked you to clap, it was one of those odd backward-asks

                                            >Now you know better to just roll with it

                                            "Well, you're done for today I take it. Mind if I head out and tomorrow morning I'll sweep up the shavings?"

                                            >"What? So soon? No, that won't do at all!"

                                            >You've only spent the last twelve hours in her parlor...

                                            >If you were the socialite sort, you'd sure love to have a life

                                            "Well... I mean, what else is there to do?"

                                            >"To go grab lunch, my dear Anonymous!"

                                            "It's 9PM, lunch time already came and went!"

                                            >With an open palm you raise it to a rather elegant clock hung above the entrance to her fabric slaughter house

                                            >Rarity looks at it...

                                            >And you...

                                            >And it again...

                                            >Her energy melts a little and is shared with an embarrassed giggle

                                            >"Oopsie... sorry. I hadn't realized."

                                            "Yeah, I bet. You spent at least four of those hours beating that poor mannequin to pulp."

                                            >"Oh, I did not! I was merely venting frustration at how sheer certain areas should be. And I went all for the face, the dress is still fine."

                                            >She speaks like it's the most natural thing

                                            "...Yeah, that's still a little troublesome."

                                            >"Only for the mannequin, dear. Instead, how about we do dinner instead? I won't take "no" for an answer..."

                                            >Given how pushy she can be, your fate has already been sealed

                                            >While speaking, she uses her magic to fold and bounce her mane back into place

                                            >Naturally it doubles as a method to clear off all of the residual fabric fluff and scrap

                                            "Well I guess I have to now. But where?"

                                            >"Good colt. And "where" is the question... last time Twilight stopped by, what was that place she mentioned?"

                                            >You grimace

                                            "That hayburger and shake shop?"

                                            >Her mock gasp squeaks out

                                            >"That is an excellent place to choose, Anonymous! You'll fund our celebratory feast, won't you?"

                                            >The games this mare plays with you is sometimes...

                                            "I would, but my employer hasn't paid me yet for the day."

                                            >You reply in the most monotone voice, tinged only with a half ounce of disdain

                                            >Rarity giggles and gives you an appraising leer

                                            >"Oh don't you worry, I'll make sure the numbers match. After dinner."

                                            >It sure is a good thing you don't have anything else going on in your life

                                            >Otherwise this would be annoying


                                            >"Welcome! P-uh-please seat yourselves! We're a little swamped tonight."

                                            >The waitress mare gives you and Rarity a quick greeting before buzzing off

                                            >Apparently a swamped night involves four tables that are currently occupied

                                            >That said, it does seem like it's only her and the cook out back

                                            >The cook is apparently as jovial as he can be because you can hear rather spirited singing that's in tune with the sounds of cooking

                                            >...It isn't so far removed from Rarity when she's in the groove of things

                                            >"Oh thank you, we will! ...Anonymous?"

                                            >You flinch back into things

                                            "Y-yeah."

                                            >You half-lead-slash-are-half-led to a table in the far corner

                                            >It's something that isn't out of sight but the booth make it rather secluded

                                            >It doesn't do a good job given you're still big enough to make it apparent the token human is visiting

                                            >"Something catch your eye, darling?"

                                            "Eh? Me?"

                                            >Rarity leans forward, a subtly disdainful smile on her lips

                                            >If you weren't so used to being around her, you wouldn't be able to pick up on these near invisible tells

                                            >"She may be cute but please, don't act all gobsmacked over every little filly working her first job."

                                            "W-what?! No, the cook was singing and-"

                                            >"Of course, dear... of course."

                                            >She gives an exaggerated sigh and rolls her eyes

                                            "Oh come on, don't tell me you're jealous."

                                            >You poke at her with a smirk

                                            >You've had numerous social outings with Rarity but you don't believe for a second that you're in some sort of... relationship with her

                                            >She's the sort who would make that type of thing obvious

                                            >Her answer is a glare

                                            >"I wouldn't be jealous of some... dainty waitress, Anonymous. Please do not insult me."

                                            >What a chilling tone

                                            >It's enough to make you uneasy

                                            >It's a wonder she isn't intimidated by your size at all

                                            >You'd think that she might treat you better for it, like many other ponies do

                                            "...right."

                                            >Well sapped of any will to banter about while waiting, you gaze out the window into the dark Ponyville streets

                                            >Lot of couples out this time of the year

                                            >A lot of them seem like they're having fun too

                                            >You don't understand why only some of them are dressed up but from what you've gathered, it's more for form over function

                                            >You'd think some form of underwear would be more common

                                            >That thought forces it's way into your head at the sight of a trio of mares trot by

                                            >Two are laughing while one is holding a half-consumed bucket of popcorn

                                            >...

                                            >Man you could go for some popcorn right now too

                                            >"You know, Anon, if you gaze any harder your eyes will pop out of your head..."

                                            "Huh?"

                                            >"Is "huh?" all you can muster?"

                                            >By her tone she's not particularly mad but she's doing more than idly teasing

                                            >You focus your gaze to her

                                            "What? Did you see the bucket of popcorn they had? Was there a big movie playing or something?"

                                            >"I've been working all day, how would I know?"

                                            >She's so prickly today

                                            "Listen, I... what's your deal? Are you stressed and taking it out on me?"

                                            >You want to ask why it is any of her business that you look where you do at all, as if you have to defend what little autonomy you make use of

                                            >"...Yes, I am. And I'm sorry, Anon. I suppose weddings do that to me."

                                            "I can se-"

                                            >"You see, Anonymous."

                                            >She just cut you off

                                            >"It was always my dream as a little filly to get married in one of my own dresses."

                                            >She literally just cut you off

                                            >"And despite the numerous suitors I do get at my social gatherings..."

                                            >You haven't seen one stallion stop by the parlor for the entire duration of your employment

                                            >"None seem to be the fit I need, as a husband. So when I see some happy, frilly, carefree lady in love..."

                                            >She's still going too

                                            >"I just... get jealous. That's all."

                                            >By the way she's looking at you, you're supposed to comfort her now or say something to offset her self-aimed jabs

                                            "Well if that's the case, why would you get jealous of what I do? It's not like you like me or anything like that, right?"

                                            >Your feckless question causes her to go as rigid as a board

                                            >For having rather soft white mane, it's easy to tell when it turns red

                                            >Very red

                                            >She stares at you for an inordinate amount of time

                                            >Normally she would have a comeback for that

                                            >As if her reaction is a sign of apathy or proof of your assertation, you give a sluggish shrug

                                            "See? Don't worry about it, I won't let my fiendish eyes wander and victimize anymore mares."

                                            >You theatrically flourish with one of your hands while going back to gaze at the window

                                            >You like how well-illuminated the town is, even at night

                                            >Even with the lanterns being few and far between, the bright moon seems to shine just enough to make sure you don't lose your way

                                            >Perha

                                            >"Anonymous..."

                                            >Oh for...

                                            >You shift back and put the unicorn in your sights

                                            "What's up?"

                                            >"I'm s-"

                                            >The waitress trots up with a pair of menus, just before Rarity can get a second word out

                                            >"Sorry for the wait! I had to clean a table, what would you like to drink? I-uh-we have a special on the soups of the day! Buy one and... half... off... for..."

                                            >The waitress wilts under Rarity's stone melting glare

                                            >"Thank you, dear. You must forgive me, I hadn't learned to read so I didn't realize the deals obviously posted on the board above the cook, nor did I have the capacity to remember that I had, in fact, been here before. I'm sure in your esteemed tenure as maitre d of this establishment you hadn't the ability to remember me among the throngs of  ravenous customers that must fill this building beyond capacity every night such as tonight!"

                                            >The laser precision delivered to the target is devastating and it shows on the poor mare's face

                                            >Before she can bolt off and cry, you lean over and pat her shoulder

                                            >You've learned that, as a human, it isn't exactly a thing you aren't supposed to do

                                            "She's... uh... it's that time of the season for her.  If you could get us two teas with sugar cubes on the side, I would appreciate it. Basket of rolls and fries too."

                                            >You lower your voice further

                                            "Don't kick her out and I'll give you fifty bits tomorrow first thing in the morning."

                                            >You're sure it wouldn't take that much to win her trust but the waitress nearly snaps to attention at your offer

                                            >"O... ok!"

                                            >While she is still visibly wounded, she seems to have the ability to soldier on for the sake of a bonus tip

                                            >Waitresses really are something else, aren't they

                                            >You return your attention to Rarity

                                            >She is...

                                            >In one of her moods

                                            >"That time of the season, is it?"

                                            >You shrug

                                            "Well, apparently it is."

                                            >Rather than explode at you, Rarity inhales

                                            >...

                                            >...

                                            >...

                                            >She's doing a good job at holding her breath there

                                            >...

                                            >And erupts in the giggle of a schoolgirl

                                            >"Ah, oh my... it sure seems that way, darling. Weddings, HA! Perhaps I just need to learn to take things more slowly. Look at how silly a pony I am."

                                            >Just as you thought it would help sooth things over, it seems like she's just side winding to a new emotional extreme

                                            >You don't know why

                                            >You sort of regret it already

                                            >But to silence her, you learn over and put both of your hands on her neck, just above her shoulders

                                            >Her eyes focus on yours immediately

                                            "Calm down, Rarity. You're all riled up because in three days the dress is due. We have more of that red bolt on the way. If we need it, we'll have it in two days. The sheer, solid, and silk white are more than half stocked, there's no reason for you to panic."

                                            >Rarity's head lolls to the side

                                            >"Ah... you're right, darling..."

                                            >Going off of instinct, your thumbs rub the front of her throat in vertical ovals

                                            "It's fine. When everyone looks at her, they're going to be seeing your dress first."

                                            >"You are sooo true... poor girl wouldn't be able to make it last on her own..."

                                            >With the soothing and only moderate ego fluffing achieved, you pull your hands away t-

                                            >Her magic traps them

                                            >She tilts her head to the side, eyes laser focused

                                            >"You don't have to stop, darling. I have worked very hard today, after all. Don't I deserve a massage?"

                                            >This is new

                                            >Doubly so because you're at a hayburger dive

                                            "...what?"

                                            >"Rub rub, Anon."

                                            >She closes her eyes and throws her head back, exposing the entirety of her throat to you

                                            >"You know what I like here, order for me."

                                            >You have never once been here with her, how are you supposed to guess right?

                                            >And there is most definitively a right and wrong answer


                                            >After an unusual amount of time spent stroking Rarity's throat, and an awkward dinner, you find yourself "escorting" the unicorn back to her parlor

                                            >You refuse to take one step inside

                                            >If you do, you probably won't be able to leave

                                            >It wouldn't be the first time that you had to spend the night over

                                            >But rather than an actual bed, you had to retire on bags of scraps and failed prototype outfits

                                            >As comfy as that was, for what it was, it still did not at all compare to a bed

                                            >At least her cat seems to like you

                                            >You stop a few steps before Rarity does, wary of being led back inside

                                            >"That was a marvelous dinner, Anonymous. Thank you for it."

                                            >There isn't much to be thankful for, you basically blew your entire day's wage on paying for it and for the waitress that just couldn't catch a break

                                            "Yeah... I suppose that soup was pretty good."

                                            >"I presume you will be off for the night?"

                                            "Yeah... well. It is on the late side. And I didn't really get to go shopping today. Again."

                                            >You've yet to hold back on how much you work for her

                                            >And she's yet to ever admit that maybe she's a little bit of a slave driver

                                            >"Oh don't you worry about that. We can stock my kitchen tomorrow if you like."

                                            "Rarity, I-"

                                            >"Oh, I know. When will we have the time? But I trust you'll remind me."

                                            "No, Rarity."

                                            >She opens her mouth to speak but you immediately block her off

                                            "Listen. Alright?"

                                            >As if the assertiveness clicks with her, she simply smiles with a nod

                                            "You've been weird ever since this dress crap started. I'm just gonna ask."

                                            >"Ask away, darling."

                                            "Why are you getting so pent up and weird? You will have me stand there for hours, doing nothing, and call it important work. You want to go out to eat, which I don't mind, but you already told me that it wasn't a big deal to do that. You chastise me like I'm a kid for doing things you think I did and you don't pay me until the very last second I genuinely need it. I get that ponies are weird but... man, it's like you don't want me to leave."

                                            >"I don't."

                                            "W-wha?"

                                            >Her response comes back so quick and so final that you got whiplash just from expecting her to wait to process it all

                                            >"I don't want you to leave, Anonymous. And I don't quite like you telling random harlots you'll give them my money to make their little hearts flutter."

                                            "Your money?"

                                            >"Yes dear, they're my bits."

                                            "That you're paying to me."

                                            >"That I. Am paying."

                                            "I've earned that, and you aren't my keeper!"

                                            >You stomp forward with an accusatory point

                                            "It's inconvenience after inconvenience with you, I yield and help out as much as I can because I believe I should. You ponies always talk about friendship and crap, I've been more than friendly and it feels like you've just been taking advantage of that."

                                            >Despite the gratuitous size difference, the aura you get from her is that you're on an equal playing field

                                            >"Anonymous... darling..."

                                            >She turns away from you, her tail raising

                                            >In the deafening silence of the outside realm, you can only hear a series of heavy, wet squelches

                                            >You see a large pink nub, violently winking

                                            >Even above, you see a twitching ponut

                                            >It twitches and flexes, going between tightening and opening as if it were created purely to entice you

                                            >"Come inside. And show me just how frustrated you really are. I promise I can take it."

                                            >What

                                            >When

                                            >Does she expect this to work?

                                            >Where did this even come from?

                                            >The parlor door opens

                                            >Rarity takes a step

                                            >You take a step

                                            >"Come on, we're almost there..."

                                            >A hungry tone comes from the unicorn's throat

                                            >You can't stop yourself from moving, or staring

                                            >"That's it. Just a little further..."

                                            >Another step

                                            >Before you know it, you're inside

                                            >Rarity's front legs slide out, making her slip into a natural offering pose

                                            >"Let me be your keeper, darling... and I'll start. By keeping alllll of that pent up desire I know you have."


                                            "...How did I get roped into this? You told me I had the day off."

                                            >"You volunteered because you wanted to see my dress walk it's way all the way up to the alter."

                                            "I specifically remember not saying that."

                                            >"It just means you have Alzheimer's, darling. Now put on the suit jacket."

                                            >You've been dragging your feet for the last hour

                                            >You really aren't a wedding type of guy

                                            >Your first excuse of not having a suit was immediately remedied by a dark green and purple outfit that Rarity had apparently tailored in secret

                                            >When she had time to do this, you can't even imagine

                                            >The jacket is the last part

                                            >It

                                            >Looks not so bad

                                            >"I'm not hearing any gratitude! Are you stunned by your new suave handsomeness?"

                                            "Yeah... I am."

                                            >You thought things would change after that night but it seems like she has gotten only more demanding of your time

                                            >At least her little sister seems cool with you

                                            >You thought it might be a bigger deal but the kid seemed to understand easy enough

                                            >You step out from behind her changing screen

                                            >You shake at the jacket and kick out your legs, to show her how well the fit is

                                            "So, is this going to be a thing where you charge me, right?"

                                            >Rarity puffs out her chest

                                            >"Oh please, do you think I'm really so cheap?"

                                            >Not a second later she squints

                                            >"Say "yes" and I'll tailor the last suit you'll ever need."

                                            >You can't stop the chill she sends down your spine

                                            "...Of course not...?"

                                            >She switches back to a proud smile

                                            >"Exactly! But you will only wear that with me. We're wearing it to a wedding, that christens it as more than mere eveningwear."

                                            "So is the big deal that I'm wearing it to a wedding or with you?"

                                            >"Both."


                                            >Weddings tend to be nice

                                            >And by nice, they have open buffets

                                            >What isn't nice, however, are pony weddings

                                            >Ton of snacks, sugar and plants that a human can theoretically eat

                                            >The drink variety is good at least

                                            >Cider, punch, soda and water

                                            >You end up sticking to the water and banana bread

                                            >"Wow! That's a gorgeous suit! Are you friends with the groom?"

                                            "Me?"

                                            >You turn to see a blue and purple mare

                                            >The purple mane looks nice

                                            "Oh, no. I'm not connected. I'm the... uh."

                                            >How do you explain that you're a quasi-crasher?

                                            "Well, I'm here with the pony that made the bride's dress. She didn't want to come alone."

                                            >She looks you over beyond the suit

                                            >"Well it sounds like you could use a friend."

                                            "Sure, I suppose. You a friend of the bride?"

                                            >"Sure am! She's my little sister. I'm Mint Jam. Our happy bride is Mint Jelly."

                                            "I..."

                                            >Your eyebrows furrow

                                            >She's holding out her hoof so you kneel down and shake it

                                            "Well, I've always preferred jam over jelly so that's pretty lucky."

                                            >Jam giggles

                                            >"You certainly are quite the preferred spread too, if I do say so!"