A/N : Hey! This is my first fic for Choni, and it's going to be a long one. This is a furture Choni AU that will also look into their past when they were a couple in high school, how their lives changed from being separated and what happens when they meet again. As you can see from the tags, there will be a moment of attempted rape/ non-con, however, that is not until much later in the story and I will leave a warning at the beginning of the chapter. Comment if you like, all comments are appreciated, but don't feel like you have to comment. I hope you enjoy my first of what is going to be many Choni fics.
The name for this Fic came from the Camila Cabello song: All These Years.
I never prepared for a moment like that. Yeah in a second it all came back, it all came back. Cause after all these years, I still feel everything when you are near—Camila Cabello, All These Years.
She was a loose cannon. She always had been, it was near impossible to tame her. This was something that anyone who had ever been around her for long enough knew about Cheryl Blossom. She was a highly impulsive girl, who never really gave much thought to any big decision before making them. She was a self-proclaimed bombshell, and she had made sure to live her life like one everyday. This aspect of her personality had always been an issue for so many people. She always just put it down to the fact that no one could truly handle her, she couldn't be sure if that was true or not, but she liked to think that it was.
Her impulsive nature had especially been an issue for her parents, Clifford and Penelope. The Blossoms were perfectionists and control freaks- to say the very least- they always had been, and they undoubtedly always would be. She and her twin brother, Jason, had always been taught that being perfect and having control was they key to a happy life. However, Cheryl had soon learnt that you couldn't have four people, (all of which vying for and loving control,) living under one roof.
She had soon learnt that there would always be the weakest link, one of you would always break. In Cheryl's family, this was usually her.
She had also learnt that on the other end of the spectrum, there was always one person that would control everyone and everything.
One puppet master, pulling all the strings.
One person would always win.
In the Blossom house hold, that one person had always been her mother, Penelope, she was the biggest control freak and perfectionist of them all. She was harsh, manipulative, cold all things that didn't equate to the most loving parent. But, the fact remained that she was a parent, and she had brought two children into this world. Twins. Jason and Cheryl.
Both as alike as two new pins in looks, despite being fraternal and a boy and a girl. Both had the same striking features, the same dark eyes, and the lovely red curls, that made any Blossom known and stand out from the crowd. Penelope had always tried to teach their children the importance of perfection from a young age. She had tried to drill it into them since early childhood that perfection was just as much a part of them as anything else was.
That being perfect was all just part of being a Blossom.
All her life, Cheryl had tried desperately to be the perfect daughter, she had always tried to maintain some semblance of control, just like her parents had wanted them too, just like all Blossoms could. But unlike her family, Cheryl had always found it hard to keep control. Her impulsive nature would always get the best of her in some way or another. All she had wanted in life, was to make her parents proud, she had heard them time and time again parsing her brother, as they built him up to take over the family's maple business, after all, he had been the first born. By exactly three minutes.
All her life she had wanted to show her parents, that she was good enough to take over the family business, to be a Blossom.
A perfect Blossom, in control of everything around her.
But, she had lost count of all the times that she had lost control growing up. She would always end up doing things that she knew her mother would hate. Simply, because she could. As alike as they were in looks, Jason and Cheryl could not have been more different in their personalities.
Jason was calm, collected and always managed to maintain control effortlessly, even when they had been children, will power had always been a strong point for Jason. He truly was the perfect Blossom. Cheryl knew that's how everyone, including their parents saw him. Perfect. No matter how hard she tried to compete with him, she never seemed able. Her mother would constantly compare them in any way that she could. Cheryl soon learned that at best, she would always come second.
She often found herself wondering if other siblings felt like this, did every sibling in the world feel the need to compete with their brothers or sisters? Or was this simply all down to how she had been raised? To be perfect. She never felt good enough when it came to her and Jason, she always felt, inferior somehow. Of course, her mother's words didn't help her any.
Don't do that Cheryl.
Take more pride in your appearance Cheryl.
Why can't you be more like Jason, Cheryl?
Were her mothers three favourite things to say to her. Of course, her mother did focus on the more shallow and materialistic aspects of life. She was forever smoothing out Cheryl's clothing when she was young. Neatening out her wild, red curls, trying to keep them tamed, but just like the girl they belonged to, it was a challenge to get them to do anything other than what they wanted.
By the time she was twelve, she had become obsessed with her looks, as a result of only hearing comments about her features, her appearance, but never her personality.
So pretty.
Pretty little thing.
Gorgeous.
Beautiful, Cheryl Blossom.
Flawless.
Your father is going to have to be careful with you.
Were just some of the comments that Cheryl had heard growing up. The last one had always struck something within her. A shiver running down her spine whenever she had heard it.
I had always sounded more like a threat to Cheryl as it dripped from the mouths of men old enough to be her father, and some older still. She had never really understood it much, and had always asked her mother why people would say it. Why would her father have to be careful? Keep her locked up as she had heard so many people say, always followed by a low, throaty laugh, as if it was the funniest thing any of them had ever heard.
She had always been so confused, and had always been pacified by her mother telling her it was a simple joke, and nothing more.
At least, until she was older, and she knew what their comments had meant.
Then there was no amount of pacifying her mother could do. Nothing worked. The comments made her feel sick to the pit of her stomach.
As she got older, she started to notice difference in how people spoke about herself and Jason; while Jason was told how handsome he was, and he truly was, both of them looked like the winners of some genetic lottery, and they knew it. But still, complements would run deeper than just aesthetics when it came to Jason. He was listed as things with much more substance than just, handsome. He would forever be called smart, funny, generous, loyal.
Somewhere, during this time, it entered Cheryl's mind that maybe, all a woman ever needed to be was pretty. That's when the obsession began to take over Cheryl, at a mere twelve-years-old.
Cheryl would never call herself shallow. Just simply obsessed with her own looks, making sure she was primped to perfection. Just as she had been raised to.
You must always look your best.
Be on your best behaviour.
Beautiful.
Well Behaved, perfect Cheryl Blossom.
If you are not these things, how else will you ever find a husband?
A husband.
The one thing any Blossom woman needed, a wealthy, attractive, impressive husband, whom she would devote her life to protecting and loving, and receive the same back, plus a life of lavishness and being a kept woman.
Never having to work for anything.
Just simply having a husband.
A husband.
Never a partner, or a lover, always a husband.
Sometimes, when she was younger, Cheryl would catch herself thinking that maybe, just maybe she didn't want a husband, of course, she would always shake these thoughts from her head. She had heard of stories of people like that, the people who lusted after the same gender as them. The deviants as her mother called them.
Disgusting. Sinners. Deviants.
She had shaken the thoughts from her mind for years, when they would watch movies as a family every third Sunday of the month. The four of them gathered on one couch huddled together as a family. But only ever on the third Sunday of each month. She would watch in silence as the beautiful leading lady would appear on screen, her pretty face in the lights, her make-up only highlighting her elegant, beautiful features. Cheryl would always catch herself thinking about how she couldn't tell if she wanted to be those women or be with them.
Disgusting. Sinners. Deviant.
She would always shake the thoughts from her head, she was none of those things. She wouldn't ever allow herself to be any of those things. Always training her eyes to fall back onto the leading man, still attractive, just in a different way. Rougher, more rugged. Yes. That was the normal. That's what she really wanted. She had done so well in her life, telling herself it was the leading man she wanted, and that she simply envied the leading lady. That's all it was. Admiration, nothing more and nothing less, there was nothing wrong with that.
No. Cheryl Blossom liked men, and men alone. That much she had been able to convince herself of.
At least, until she was sixteen years old, and soft brown eyes, and feminine features had clouded her mind and filled her senses with everything she had ever wanted. Only for it to be snatched away from her so cruelly.
All because she had been disgusting. A sinner. Deviant.
Her mother knew she had been. Her mother had made sure to fix that. The only way she knew how. Get rid of the problem. Of course, the problem had been Cheryl, her impulsive and uncontrollable, deviant ways. She had soon fixed that. Sending her away to a boarding school, with good, strong catholic morals to set her back on track.
No more sin. No more deviance, no more her.
"Cheryl, did you hear anything I just said to you?" The deep, gruff voice pulled her from her musing, she shook her head slowly and blinked rapidly, trying to clear all thoughts from her mind.
"No, I'm sorry." She admitted, her voice just above a whisper.
Nick sighed and rolled his eyes, "Why am I not surprised?" He asked, his tone somewhat annoyed. Cheryl had always been one to zone out and lose focus. Always so easily distracted by the smallest of things. It was just one of the many areas in which she lacked control. "I was gently reminding you that we're having dinner with our parents tonight."
The welcome home dinner.
Cheryl had, in fact, forgotten all about it.
In the weeks prior to Cheryl and Nick moving to Riverdale, after years of living in the heart of New York City, Clifford and Penelope had wanted to have a fabulous dinner for their daughters return. The dinner, was to be hosted by the Blossoms, in the extravagance that was Thistlehouse.
Nick had accepted for the both of them, with nothing but gratitude and excitement, he had wanted nothing more than to move to Riverdale after taking over his families business, it had been seen as the perfect chance to merge with The Blossoms, creating something of an empire for both families.
The Blossoms and , coming together in business and life, thanks to Nick and Cheryl.
Cheryl had never seen herself coming back here. Not ever. It had never been in her tunnel vision plan. She had always envisioned herself somewhere far away after college.
She hadn't wanted to be in Riverdale, neither of them had, they especially hadn't wanted anything to do with Cheryl's parents. She could still hear the soft quiet voice telling her they'd get away and never look back. That it was just them, and always would be. That things would undoubtedly get better.
Away from Thistlehouse. Away from Sunny Side. Away from Riverdale.
But things changed.
Oh, god had her life changed so drastically in six years.
Back in Riverdale, after years away, going back to the cold, harsh reality of her family life, the life that came with being the youngest Blossom, and of course, a girl in the Blossom family tree. Only one thing had gone as she had planned, she was engaged, to a fine suitor. But even that was marred with inconsistency. Even that was sordid compared to what she had wanted. What she had planned. The thing that at eighteen-years-old she had thought was so set in stone.
Nick was suitable enough, she knew that being with him would offer her the stability, support and comfort she had yearned for all her life. She knew that with him by her side she would never have to worry about her next meal, or a roof over her head.
Stability was inevitable.
But it was not the stability she had wanted, that she had needed. Nor was it the support that at sixteen years old she had found and clung to so desperately. He was Nick St. Clair, a young, wealthy and wildly attractive heir to a fortune, just as she was. He was everything she could want in a partner. Or more accurately, he was almost everything she could want in a partner.
Smart? Check.
Attractive? Check.
Devoted to Cheryl? Check.
But still, there was something missing, something, that deep down, Cheryl knew she shouldn't be feeling. Something she had tried to suppress for years, and for the most part, had suppressed for years.
Disgusting. Sinner. Deviant.
The three words ran over and over in her head, the thought of going back to her childhood home pulling back the repressed feelings. The last time she had been in Thistlehouse had been the last time she had seen her.
"Of course, I haven't forgotten about that, Nick," she lied, her red lips pulling back in a smile to reveal perfect teeth. "I can't wait for it." Another lie.
Cheryl could wait.
She didn't want to go back at all.
The last time she had been in Thistlehouse, everything had been different.
Whispers of sweet nothings, declarations of love, and soft promises all tucked neatly in luxurious silk sheets. Of course, in a matter of minutes, her mother had ripped all of that away from her.
Sending her away, all because she had been disgusting. A sinner. A deviant child.
All because her mother had caught her in bed, wrapped in the arms of Antoinette Topaz.
A/N: Just a side note, I hate Nick with a passion, and I am in no way saying that he and Cheryl would be s good couple, in fact, in this fic you will see quite the opposite. But for the purpose of this fic, an OC character wouldn't fit the bill, not when the writers of Riverdale have already given us a vile creature for a character.