An apple never falls far from the tree

"Goodnight, see you tomorrow."

He leans back, hand on the doorknob to his home, giving the young cowgirl a quick peck on the cheek beneath the shadow of the brim of her hat. She grimaces rather than smile, before he can turn away her hand whips out and clutches his forearm, her strong fingers digging in like iron nails. Her other hand grabs the back of his head much more forcefully and far less romantically than she'd intended, her forceful kiss nearly clicking teeth as she yanks him into it. Her tongue penetrates his tight lips, she retreats after only a single swirl and immediately reprimands her date.

"That's it? Just a peck? It's been four weeks! Ya won't even kiss me proper if ah don't force it!"

Slightly uncomfortable at the public display he ushers the young satyr in, shutting the door behind her before even saying a word in return. Despite the tightly locked door he still whispers, feeling as though the unusual relationship should remain secret.

"I'm sorry, Cider, l really am. You're young enough to be my daughter an-"

She stamps a hoof and balls her fists, cutting in with indignation.

"That ol' tired song an' dance again? I ain't a little filly, I’m a full grown mare an' l can date whoever l want!"

His open palms deflect her anger, he tries to continue.

"-still, though, l can't help but feel so old around you. You're half my age and l just feel like a monster-"

"Y'ain't no monster! Ah'll tell ya what a monster is, the mare who'd walk out on a sweet guy like you an' leave em' raising a little girl all by hisself."

"-and what about my daughter? What would she say if she came home from Canterlot to see another girl her age sleeping in her bed?"

His arms folded across his chest, his heart conflicted with feelings of a father talking down to his child and his baseline urges as a male begging him to cast caution to the wind. Cider no longer looked him in the eye, as he talked her down her gaze fell lower and lower until she stared at his feet.

----------

Her hands came off her wide hips, she tightly folded them beneath her chest before returning them to her hips. She opened her mouth once, taking a deep breath instead of speaking. Arms still cocked at her sides she looked up, staring him right in the eye and showing off her flushing cheeks.

"Now, why would ah be in -her- bed?"

Of all the possible replies he could have given, snorting slightly and turning his head away was likely one of the worst. Her head falls again, her hat now hiding her eyes stinging from embarrassment.

"Kid, look, l know you think you like me, but you've just got to get out there and find a colt your age. I'm not going to take advantage of-"

A quick jab to the chest startled his breath away, she'd stepped forward with the delivery of the surprise punch and stood completely within his space, pressing him against his own front door and forcing him to hear what she's been saying for some time.

"Are ya stupid or something? Are ya dumber than a sack o' apples? I -know- what l want, an' it ain't a colt my age. Ya think ya know what yer talkin' about? Y'ain't got even the slightest clue! Colts my age are all about runnin' around sowin' their wild oats without th' slightest hint o' commitment or faithfulness. This ain't my first rodeo in any sense o' the word, Anon-"

"- but -"

"Don't you dare say nothing about my age again, or I’ll buck half yer teeth out."

His next reply is muffled by another forced kiss, her tongue raping his mouth once more. His better half's protests are lost in the senses of his rekindling 'youthfulness', he finds his hands drawn to her hips. Instead of pressing her off he squeezes her plump thighs, lifting her slightly into a deeper kiss.

Her hat is brushed off and falls to the floor, she doesn't care in the slightest. With both her hands on his collar she lets up on the oral assault, breaking the seal with a slight pop and giving him a face full of her hot breath.

"So, are ya starting to see it my way?"

----

He can do little more than gawp at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly with her weight upon it. His brain struggles to form words in the absence of the blood rapidly flooding elsewhere.

"Why, why are you moving so fast?"

'Said no man ever' would be the reply that would snap to the tip of her tongue, but she opted for a more personal answer.

"Why not? Just 'cause I’m young don't mean l got all th' time in th' world. Ain't getting any younger yerself neither, are ya'? Naw, it's like in every romance novel l ever saw, they spend two hundred pages pussyfootin' around getting together and then the good part happens an' it's happily ever after. So how about you skip yer yammerin' and we get to the good part?"

Around the '200 pages' part she began grinding her hips against his, draining his mind once more.

"Y-you read romance novels?"

She smiles with the same blush, still pumping her hips against his.

"Mostly just the important parts."

He can't help it. He laughs, breaking up the tension slightly. She gives him his breathing room back, stepping away and standing tall. Doing her best to look like a proud, adult woman she stands nearly tip toe, hands on her thick hips, looking him in the eye. He looks her over once more, the little girl who'd aggressively bought him ice cream one day and started forcing him on 'dates' no longer looking so little. His long, reflecting gaze carries the silence for a few moments, before she speaks again. Her voice carries neither lust nor anger, just a calm, even tone.

"Ya keep tellin' me to wait an' go away an' ta double check mah business an' how l'm just going ta break mah heart. That ain't the truth, is it, Anon? Ain't you just afraid o' gettin' yer own heart broke again?"

The pleasant glimmer in his eye fades, his smile falls into tightly pursed lips. No longer looking at her, she sees his gaze turn inward, his expression far and distant. Her ears perk to catch his whisper, just on the cusp of being audible.

----------

"Yeah, you have been reading too many romance novels."

In the second it takes her to process the slight his grin has returned, together they laugh. He steps toward her and holds her tightly, melding bodies and kissing her deeply for the first time of his own accord. His hands slip on the back pockets of her shorts, squeezing her plump rump. Hers dart into the waistband of his, squeezing the bare skin of his bottom. The kiss seems to last forever, neither partner's first but by far and away the best. She leans away, finding it hard to break the kiss when she wasn't in control, struggling to stop the rolling momentum for even a moment after fighting so hard to start it in the first place.

"Y-ya forgot ta say something."

Her glimmering eyes shine brightly even in the dimming light of the sunset pouring in through the windows. Even caught off guard as he was, looking into those beautiful windows to the soul he can read her thought as clearly as though it were a script.

"I love you."

And so he did, over the past month he'd come to realize how lonely he'd become and how painful the resignation to that fate had become. The woman in his arms had chased away that coldness and  brought him a warmth he'd only dared to feel once before.

She holds him tightly, whispering the same reply into his chest. The inaudible brushing of her lips against his shirt was more than he needed to set his heart aflutter. Her hands find his, both equally as coarse from labor. Her calloused hands feel just right, absolutely perfect in his, another kiss flows naturally.

The first night together stretches into the early hours of the morning, Luna's moonlight bearing it's silent witness to what occurs in the dark. The heat of the room is sweltering despite the brisk autumn air, sweat forms on their hot brows and every bit of cool breeze feels heavenly. Their muted voices, formless words of love and passion are lost amidst the gentle scuttling of dry leaves.

-----------

Warm light wakes him, Celestia's sun painfully stinging his eyes until he wakes. His bed is empty, his body cold. Fear that the night was only a dream crosses his mind, scaring and depressing him for just a moment before his mind reassures itself that it couldn't have merely been a flight of fantasy. The scents of a busy stove float his way, awaking both his stomach and heart to the woman across his home.

He flips the covers off, dressing warmly and quickly, ducking his head through the low doorway and taking a quick detour to the restroom. A long sigh of relief is lost amidst the tinkling water, as he dutifully washes his hands he notices the first aid kit has been pulled free from beneath the sink, a band aid wrapper freely sitting on the counter. His brow knits in concern, beelining for his young lover he steps through the small home and hones in on the odors of breakfast.

There she is, frying up a potato hash with a bandaged finger, the rest wash towel laying on the floor betraying her accident.

"Aw shoot, jus' another five minutes and l would'a had ya."

He doesn't reply, tightly hugging her and startling a weak pink tinge into her cheeks again.

"Hey, wait a sec 'til l'm done cookin', it'll burn."

Obediently letting her arms free she returns to her work, making herself at home in the kitchen. They make small talk as she perfectly times the hash and eggs together, reaching high and low to grab seasonings and plates without delay. She plates up her humble breakfast like a star chef, placing his plate before him and sitting herself beside him rather than across the table. After only a single bite he has to put his fork down, speaking as soon as he swallows.

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect. And the eggs are just how l like them, too."

She smiles, hiding her face and staring at her plate.

"Well, gosh, it's not hard. And besides, is there any other way to eat eggs?"

Forks gently tink as they eat in near silence, each content to lean together without words.

----

The day passes slowly, agonizingly slowly for each of the mismatched lovers. Apart from one another, their day trades seem to drag on forever. Despite their longing they each carry a bounce in the step, miles away from each other identical teasing 'what's gotten into you' remarks are cheerfully deflected. They unknowingly race each other through the day to return to his home, he beats her and arrives early to rekindle the hearth and scare the chill from the no longer empty home.

She arrives in tow with a heavy cloth shopping back, having ran through the day market over the course of her daily errands. She holds it up easily with one hand, her deceptively feminine arm's tricep clearly visible while flexing.

"Do ya like south western, Anon?"

He smiles, arms folded.

"Another good guess, Cider."

He grabs her shoulders for another quick peck on the cheek, turning her loose into the kitchen to make her special dinner. He tries to butt in and help her, but each time she shits him down and bumps him out of the way with her thick butt.

"Don't get ahead o' yerself partner, soon you'll be begging me to cook again when neither o' us feels like it."

They both laugh, he keeps near the kitchen as she cooks and they regale their days to each other.

"Ya like it hot, right?"

"Scorching."

Soon she's prepared most of the meal, but as she comes to the final step she hesitates. She picks up the tortillas as though they were a package full of snakes, clumsily attempting to form a wrap. It completely falls to bits as she tries to plate it.

"Having a little trouble there?"

"Ahm not."

He comes up behind her, reaching around her on either side and forming their bodies together once more.

"Come on, like this."

He scoops up the filling, plopping it back in the messy tortilla. He shows her carefully how to form it and fold it, making a tight little packet that easily stays together.

"Your turn."

Again she tries, making a messy and weakly folded wrap that spills itself.

-------

His suppressed laughter turns her face red, she bumps his away with her hips and slips out of his embrace. She stomp over to the table and throws her hefty rear into the chair, crossing her legs and folding her arms. He says nothing, already making the rest of their plates, but she calls out to him to make it seem like her idea.

"So do it then, if yer so smart."

He nods, a quick "Yes ma'am", passing his lips. As he folds the last of the modestly sized wraps for their dinner he carries the plates over, holding them hostage rather than serving them.

"So why would you pick a special dinner you aren't great at making right?"

Any offense was unintended, and washed past her without harm. She knew full well she couldn't make a wrap to save her life, and she stared quite hard at her glass of water as she struggled for a good answer. Eventually she whispers it, hunger winning out over embarrassment.

"Because it's your favorite."

That's all he needed to hear. The plates clink as the hit the table, they eat side by side once more. Hot pepper in hot food burns at their mouths, their pitcher of ice water split between them rapidly draining into their glasses as they endure the pain that they love together. It's the best he's had in a long time, the spice of love granting that 'je ne sais quois' that bachelor cooking could never know. With empty plates and full bellies they sit back, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand. She scratches at his knee with her fingertips, as he turns to her she kisses him. Their lips are each so hot, burning with the pepper and the heat of the other, the awful and delightful warmth making for an amazing kiss. She excuses herself, gathering the plates up to wash them. He casually compliments her.

"Thanks for making dinner, Mistake*."

She jolts as though shocked by lightening, tripping over nothing and throwing the dishes to shatter at the sink as she catches herself. The reflection of her wide, scared eyes in the dark window is priceless.

----

*I'm actually a huge fagit who hasn't read ISoM yet, and this isn't really -that- Mistake. I don't know the character or her mannerisms. Here it's just an archetype name like Cider or the others and if we get a different changeling cumdumper stock satyr or the author objects l'll edit it in the paste.

-----

He smiles at her, not upset, having come to terms with this already. He grants her heart a moment to calm down from beating fast enough to explode, seemingly taking ages before she feels brave enough to turn around.

"W-what do ya mean-"

"Drop it."

Her head hangs low, tears and a runny nose already threatening to flow. He continues, his voice warm and far from upset, yet clearly commanding.

"Drop -all- of it."

She nods, her weak 'ok' squeaking in her throat. From the tips of her hooves up to her hat a weak, green fire licks at her skin without damaging her clothes. Her coat burns clean off her under half, her shorts falling to her ankles as her considerably smaller, thin waist no longer supports them. Likewise her country shirt grows baggy in the chest, awkwardly stuffed with growing, folded wings in the back. The hat stays steady, still covering her eyes as her hair scorches as dark as coal from sandy blond. Her thin, smooth hand clasp themselves tightly at her thin hips, tightly enough to cut off blood flow to the fingers. Teeth grit, sniffing back tears, she offers neither explanation nor justification.

"What happened to the real Cider?"

Her heavy breathing takes a moment to subside, crying suppressed but threatening to return at any second.

"S-she wanted to go. Away from apples. But she couldn't go without me. My scholarship, l mean. I offered it to her, and she pretended to be me. I agreed to take her place so her parents wouldn't know or feel bad until she finished her schooling, and, uh, l... wanted..."

"Wanted what?"

Her meek whisper is unintelligible.

"Wanted -what-?"

"T-to be with you."

It grew quiet in the home. The fireplace crackled and popped as she stood there, her shame and deceit on display. Her hat was pulled so low to hide she shame she was nearly wearing it like a mask, her rapidly heaving chest experiencing the worst anxiety of her life. Father's chair scuffed on the floor as he stood while she attempted to will herself to death.

------

Unable to see him yet withering before his presence she could feel him looming before her once more. Imagining herself shriveling before his wrath she almost expected to be struck, despite his cool and controlled tone it did nothing to sooth her fear.

"And what about when Cider came home, all educated and ready to start a new life away from the farm -without- me?"

Her hooves touched together as she squeezed her bottom tightly enough to form a diamond, her palm popping under the pressure of the hand clutching it.

"I- ah, after being with you, the plan was that after a year or so you would be so in love with me it wouldn't matter... When l told you."

He nods, only to himself. Stepping forward he palms the top of her hat and tosses it carelessly to the side, wrapping his arms around her tightly and bowing his head to rest along side hers, whispering warmly.

"You -do- read too many romance novels."

He received no reply for some time besides a deluge of warm, happy tears through some combination of laughing sobs that soaked his shirt. She hugged him tightly enough to pop a few vertebrae, the father and daughter now holding each other as man and woman without any deceit or pretense between them. A long time passes, the pain and frustration that bottles up over years of longing and stressful anxiety cannot be vented properly in just a few minutes, together they lay on the couch and for a long while they rest together. Once finished with the long and short of her confession she lays beside him, head on his lap, her eyes still red despite her happiness. After her long turn talking she only had one last, burning question.

"So, Da-, Anon, how did you know?"

He idly brushes her cheek, straightening stray hairs stuck in the damp rivulets on her cheeks.

"Oh, come on. You weren't even trying."

"Hey-"

"- You didn't even act like you didn't know where everything in the house was-"

"Hey, it's all in spots that make sense-"

"- or what all my favorite things were."

---

She pursed her lips and continued her defense.

"Everyone likes those foods."

"No, ponies usually don't ever eat eggs like that or food that hot. You're a little freak, just like me."

She started to protest again but was cut short, a quick peck on her lips kept her silent. However quick or chaste, it was their first true form kiss together and she would never forget it.

"Besides, l always had to wrap your tortillas for you."

She rolled over in his lap, turning away from him to break the conversation without a reply. Her cute gesture of indignation went on longer than she'd intended, mental exhaustion and the comfort of the situation stealing her away into an accidental nap in his lap. He gently set his hand on her side without waking her, laying his own head back to stare outside at the moon.

Just another secret shared with only her as its silent witness.

----

(Bonus ending)

"How could you tell?"

He laughed, the idea of her clumsy attempt at deceit fooling anyone tickling his funny bone just right.

"Surely, you can't be serious? Knowing the home like the back of your hand and failing to disguise any of your flaws?"

She looked hurt, sitting up out of his lap and facing him.

"Hey, l-"

"-Besides, l'd recognize my child's musk anywhere."

Her eye cocked and her mouth hung slightly agape, the bizarre comment leaving her speechless. Dad laughed, harder and harder, almost to the point of tears as. He burst into a bright corona of emerald fire. The daughter leaped up and backed against the wall, hands spread, scared to death.

Chrysalis sat on the couch, reclined upright with legs spread, arm dangling from the armrest.

"Where's my Dad?" daughter cries.

"I -am- your Dad."

Daughter's eyes reflexively dart down between her legs and back up to her eyes, earning a disdainful snort from mother.

"No, foal, l'm disguised as your dad."

"B-but, where is he?"

Chrysalis shrugs on the couch.

"Don't know, only saw him once."

Daughter's brain completely ceases function.

"..... why?"

"Oh, l don't know. I guess l thought you'd love me more if you thought l was the father who faithfully stated instead of a monster of a loyal mother. It's complicated. I'm complicated. Welcome to life."

She idly traced circles on the armrest with her hoof as she destroyed her daughters world.

"B-but-"

"Do you still love me?"

"How?!"

"I'm the same person, just disguised. You did the same thing. Aren't you a hypocrite, then?"

This weighed heavily on the daughter's mind. After some soul searching she made her decision.

"F-fine. Just change back."

Mom acquiesced, wreathed in flame father's form appeared once more. His familiar voice spoke once more, but it did not sooth her.

"Now, you."

"I-into what? Cider?"

"No... do... do me!"

Daughter mouth hung agape. He gestured for her to get on with it, the shell shocked girl dropped to all fours.

-----

Pony form was extremely hard for the fledgeling satyrling, bones popped and shifted further than ever before. Her body twisted itself into a decent mock up of the pony she'd just seen briefly, although only about half her size.

A minute, demure little Chrysalis stood in the center of the living room, no larger than a regular pony. Father sits forward on the couch, clapping a few times for her.

"Good try, l know it's difficult. Good show on the hair too, l love it."

Chrysalis-ette disdainfully blows the teal hair off her face from the corner of her mouth, speaking in a small voice with none of the timbre her true mother commands.

"I can't even begin to explain to you how uncomfortable l am."

Father comes over and kneels beside her, left arm around her chest and right arm beneath her bottom. He stands, lifting her cleanly, carrying her off toward the bedroom.

"Deal with it."