Imagine- A One-shot Collection

Middle Class- Cruella DeVille (Cruella)

Male Y/N

Y/N sat at one of the tables at the afterparty of Cruella's show, sipping on a cocktail. His girlfriend, Cruella De Vil herself, hadn't come out yet, and he wasn't a fan of the rich crowd too much, having come from a middle-class family, that most rich people made fun of.

But Cruella never did. They met at a tavern one night, where Y/N was working as a bartender. He had served Cruella, and they had got to talking. Cruella continued coming back to the tavern whenever he was working, realizing she was beginning to fall in love with the simple Y/N.

But Cruella hadn't wanted to fall in love, not because Y/N was middle class, but because she didn't want to end up hurting him like she had hurt her mother. So she started talking about her problems and insecurities to Y/N, hoping to deter him, but that only made him want to be with her more. Eventually, Y/N finally had the courage to ask Cruella to be his girlfriend, and she begrudgingly accepted.

But her feelings for Y/N blossomed, and now they had been dating for two years. Cruella introduced him to the high life and began taking him to all of her shows and the afterparties that accompanied them. Like the one he was sitting at right now.

As the rich people walked by, they shot sideways glances at Y/N, as if they could tell he wasn't one of them. He anxiously waited for Cruella, she could always make him feel better at these things.

As he sat, he heard the chair next to him scrape against the floor. "Cruella?" he wondered hopefully, but no. It was just some random rich girl in a glittery gown with her hair tied up with a diamond clip and her face accentuated with layers of makeup.

"Cruella? Hardly," the woman said with a smirk. "Why would you be asking about her?"

Y/N frowned. "She's my girlfriend."

The woman looked Y/N up and down before she burst out laughing. "YOU? Don't make me laugh!"

"What!?" He scoffed.

"I mean, sure, you're handsome, that's the whole reason why I came over here," she explained. "But clearly, you're middle class, and if you think that Cruella is your girlfriend, then you're delusional!"

"I'm not delusional, and she is my girlfriend, and you need to leave me alone," Y/N told her. "Cruella won't be happy if she sees you harassing me."

"She won't see me harassing you, and if she does, she won't care." The woman smirked.

Someone cleared their throat behind the pair, clearly annoyed. "And what makes you say that, darling?"

The woman turned, and her eyes widened. "C-Cruella! It's an honour to meet you!"

"Oh, shut it!" Cruella hissed, surprising the woman.

"But I was just about to this delusional middle-class piece of garbage to bug off!" the woman insisted, not realizing or caring how much her words upset Y/N.

Cruella's expression darkened and she stalked around the woman so she was in front of her, staring down her nose at her. Cruella leaned down and grabbed the front of the woman's dress threateningly. "That delusional middle-class piece of trash happens to be my boyfriend, so if you value your reputation and title, you'll scurry off now, eh?"

The woman gasped and nodded nervously. When Cruella let her go, she ran off. "Sorry about that love," Cruella told Y/N as she took the woman's seat.

Y/N looked down at his hands and gave her a slight smile. "Yeah, it's no big deal."

Cruella's face changed to one of concern when she noticed how upset Y/N looked. "Darling, you don't believe what she said, do you?"

Y/N bit his lip and tried not to let any tears fall as he shook his head.

"You do," Cruella stated. "Well, you shouldn't. She's a jealous tosser. Whether she's jealous of you or me? Well, I don't know," she smiled as Y/N chuckled at her statement. "But, she has no right to talk to you like that, no matter who you are." She took Y/N's hand in hers and placed a kiss on it. "I love you."

"I know," Y/N mumbled, finally looking up at Cruella. "You did well tonight, as always, of course."

"And you look great, as always," Cruella complimented.

"Well, what can I say? I have a girlfriend to impress." Y/N sipped the last of his cocktail.

"Say, now that you're done, how would you like to dance?" Cruella asked, standing up and extending her hand.

He blinked in surprise. Cruella had never asked him to dance at an afterparty before. "Are you sure you want to be seen with me?" Y/N asked embarassedly. "I don't want to ruin your reputation."

"Nonsense! These people will think twice before challenging me. Besides, if they don't like you and accept you, then they have bad taste," Cruella insisted. "Please? Dance with me?"

Y/N grinned and nodded, taking Cruella's hand. She led him out onto the floor and they began swaying to the music. Their movement was fluid as if they belonged together. The longer they danced, the more people stopped to stare.

Is Cruella... dancing?

Who's that she's with?

Why, I hardly recognize either of them!

Y/N stared into Cruella's deep green eyes, getting lost in them as they danced across the room. He loved the way her curls fell around and perfectly framed her pale face. His gaze travelled from her eyes to her lips. Her full red lips. Her inviting, full red lips. As the song ended, he leaned forward and kissed her, in front of everyone in the room.

There was a collective gasp as the world seemed to stop for everyone. Y/N quickly pulled away, but Cruella grabbed his chin and pulled him in again, eliciting another gasp from the crowd. This time, Cruella pulled away and glared around the room at everyone. "What?" she asked. "No seriously! What is the problem? Am I not allowed to love whomever I please because of my title? I am Cruella DeVille! I may do as I please! Does anyone have a problem with that?"

The crowd slowly resumed doing what they were doing before, and Cruella sighed. "Sorry about that."

"Elle, are you sure this is ok?" Y/N asked.

"Sure I'm sure. When have you ever known me to be wrong?"

Y/N shrugged. "You've got me there."

Cruella laughed and pulled him close to her again. They continued to dance the night away, not allowing anyone to get in the way of their happiness. This was who they were, and they were proud of it.