I had this though on a cute little one shot for Alastor x chubby reader in the hotel I was wondering if you would like to run with it? Where the reader gets some nail varnish that matches their lip color without thinking about it. Alastor becomes rather fond of them wearing the color and eventually it vanishes after Angel points out that it’s almost the exact same color as the reader’s lips.
The reader ends up pouting a bit over it because they can’t find it anywhere in stores anymore. They ask Angel if they borrowed it to Angel’s confusioned response to the tune of “why the fuck would I want to wear your lip color?” And it gets to the point they ask for Nifty’s help finding it while Alastor is trying to avoid the topic entirely. Eventually Nifty DOES find it in the radio tower much to Alastor’s flustered frustration.
A/N oh hell yes i can do this. 11/10. Also I am skipping the fuck around in my request order, I am so nervous about posting cover up pt 4. I promise it will come out soon.
Spicy Sienna and Berry Naughty (Alastor x Gn!Chubby!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Uhhh I got a little suggestive with this one guys. Sorry. Also,, Alastor is a little creepy and stalkery and has a thing about hands. This one just came out all around weird. Also, I named it after my favorite lip and nail polish matching combo so don't judge the fic by its name. Also Alastor sexualizes the reader a bit. Let me know if I missed anything. (guys i really have no idea what happened with this one, i am so sorry. I hope you still like it.) Also,, Alastor is for sure ooc.
Word Count: 3,675
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"Is that a new color?"
Alastor's ears perked up. He didn't turn to face the source of the sound but he listened. There was only one person in the hotel Angel would direct such a question towards after all.
"Yeah. It's essie, Berry Naughty is the name I think? Nail polish and makeup products always get called the silliest things. Do you like it?"
Y/n was the Hazbin Hotel's newest resident. They had arrived just a few weeks before, brought into the fold by Angel himself. The pair were old friends apparently, knew each other from back when they were alive.
"Yeah, it suits you. A lot more than that blue you used to wear."
There were three things the pair could be discussing in Alastor's mind. The first was Y/n's clothing. They were always dressed to the nines, decked out in some crazy ensemble or another.
At first, it had seemed foolish to Alastor. Anyone who cared that much about what they looked like had no shot at being an enjoyable person in his mind. That was before he had started to get to know the demon, seen the joy it brought them to indulge in fashion, realized the things they wore were for them and them alone. Everything had changed with that. It wasn't about persuasion, getting attention, facade. It was just who they were.
The thing about this first theory, however, was that Y/n almost never wore blue.
"Hey!" Y/n laughed, sounding a tad offended, "I liked the blue and I still might go back to it."
The second option was lipstick. Another little hobby the demon indulged in that had caused Alastor to misjudge their character upon their arrival was the makeup. Every few days, they would come down from their room in one crazy look or another. It was always something dramatic, coordinated perfectly to whatever else they had going on. If Y/n loved anything, they loved a theme.
Alastor had again made the mistake of assuming Y/n's enjoyment of such a thing was a representation of their vapidness when he had first met them. He would not be making that mistake again. The thing was, for all their wild self expression and experimental use of colors, he had never once see them sporting blue lipstick, he couldn't even picture it.
"What! I'm just sayin." Angel teased.
The third and final option, the one Alastor decided was what they must be discussing, was their nail polish. Y/n loved the act of painting nails, called it a ritual of self adoration. The way they talked about it, someone would think they were dedicating sacrifices at an alter to the gods. Every week, like clockwork, they would repaint them. Monday afternoons, four o'clock sharp. Their favorite color of late had indeed been a dark, almost black, blue. Alastor had liked it. The color had made something about their hands shine.
"Rude." Y/n scoffed in reply.
Alastor had always loved Y/n's hands. He had always had a thing about hands. In his opinion, hands were the most telling part of a person, or demon even. They showed nerves, experience, hard work -- went straight through to the core of who a person was. A carpenter's hands were rough, a cook's were scarred, an artists stained with color, a string musician's had calluses on the fingertips. Yes, a lot about a person could be learned from their hands.
Y/n's hands were soft, on the smaller side, and without the bony protrusions of their knuckles so many people seemed to admire now days. Alastor had never understood the desirability of skeletal thinness. It was impractical and uncomfortable. Y/n's hands suited them perfectly, Alastor thought. They were his favorite pair of hands to watch, the way they would flit across the keys of a piano, the way they kneaded the dough when she baked, the way they held a pen.
"I mean, it does match your lipstick now which is kinda a look."
At this, Alastor really did turn around. He couldn't help himself.
Y/n and Angel were lounging on the couches of the hotel lobby. They were dressed down, wearing a pair of jeans that hugged their legs and a crop top that accentuated their body perfectly. They looked soft, they looked comfortable, they looked delicious.
The idea of hunger was a complicated one. When Alastor thought of other demons as delicious looking, it was because he wanted to eat them, to consume their flesh that is. Y/n was certainly delicious but, he had no desire to eat them. Not like that, at any rate.
Angel had been right, Alastor could see it from across the room. The soft ruddy red of their nail varnish matched the gloss coating their lips perfectly. Alastor had always loved the color red.
"Wait, really?" Y/n asked, holding a hand up to their face, by their mouth, their nails turned out towards Angel, "Is it bad?"
"Nah, it's honestly kinda a look."
Y/n hummed, moving their hand from their face and staring intently at their nails.
"Maybe it'll be my new color then... This is the gloss I wear when I'm just doing normal makeup."
"Cohesion is key." Angel noted, "If you have a look to fall back on, people tend to like that in my experience."
Y/n stayed true to their word and Alastor relished in this revelation. Over the course of the next week, nearly every time he spotted them around the hotel, they were wearing that same combination of nail polish and lipstick. It was a secret indulgence of his, a treasure.
They nearly caught him staring one time as they were talking with him. It was nothing special, just one of their average, casual chats about the ethics of one situation or another. For someone who had ended up in Hell, Y/n had a soft spot for moral philosophy. It was clearly spill over from some preoccupation of their mortal self.
Mid conversation, he had drifted off. He hadn't meant to, it was the way they talked. Y/n was an animated conversationalist, always moving their hands to accentuate their words in one way or another. It drew his eyes to their hands and their face equally, their nails and their pretty, dark red lips.
"Hey, Alastor... Alastor!"
"Yes, my dear?" he had quickly replied, snapping out of his stupor.
"Are you alright?"
"Why on earth wouldn't I be?"
"You just kinda... trailed off there."
Alastor tried his best to push his embarrassment to the side, to shake it off his shoulders seamlessly. Miraculously, he succeeded. He wasn't quite sure how, when they were watching him with such concern filling their eyes, a slight pout to their lips.
"Just a little distracted. Lots to do today. My apologies, my dear."
"And here I thought you loved deontological thought." Y/n had teased.
Everything was fine. Alastor didn't mind Angel having noticed, it was a well known fact the spider demon saw Y/n as a sibling rather than a potential partner. The pair had grown up together and when Sir Pentious, one night, had asked whether or not they had ever messed around with each other, seeing how close they were and comfortable with physical contact, the pair had made eye contact before each putting on their own display of disgust.
Alastor was good at seeing through people, he knew it hadn't been a show. What was a problem was when Husk somehow noticed the pairing of their lip and nail color as well.
Alastor had been talking to Charlie about one thing or another as Y/n shared a drink with Sir Pentious at the bar. He was half listening to Charlie, half to their conversation. Alastor always kept an ear out for Y/n's saccharine tones.
The pair had been chatting about how their respective journeys to redemption were going when Husk had cut in.
"Did you match your nail color to your lipstick?" he asked in mild amazement.
Alastor bristled. That fact was his, was for him. No one else was allowed to see.
"Yeah!" he heard Y/n brightly reply, a tinge of pride to their voice.
Though Alastor's back was to them, he could picture the way they must be holding their delicate, gentle hands up now.
"Isn't it cute?"
Husk whistled.
"Damn, Angel is finally rubbing off on you."
"I mean, I guess." came Y/n's hesitant reply.
"You trying to catch someone's attention?"
Alastor could hear his own heartbeat in the silence that proceeded their reply.
"I mean, not on purpose. Not with this. I just like the way it looks... I don't know, it makes me feel... pretty."
Y/n was right. Alastor knew for a fact, had seen it with his own eyes, how irresistible the combination made them look. Now others were starting to notice it as well and, well, Alastor couldn't have that, now could he.
The next morning, when Alastor came down for breakfast, he noticed Y/n sitting at the table, looking uncharacteristically despondent. His back to them as he began to prepare his morning cup of coffee, he smiled.
"What's got you down, my dear?" he asked and Y/n sighed.
"My nail polish disappeared."
So, they had already noticed. Alastor picked the carton of milk up off the counter.
"Don't you have others? You're always a veritable rainbow of color!"
Alastor kept his voice light and cheery. His coffee made, he took a seat at the table across from them.
"Yeah, I guess. I just liked that one. It matched my favorite lipstick."
"Couldn't you try another color? That midnight blue last week was rather nice."
"Yeah, I guess." suddenly, their eyes shot up to his, a smile breaking out across their face, "Wait, Al! You're a genius! I'll just go buy another bottle!"
When Y/n returned from the store a few hours later, their gray cloud had returned.
"Are you alright?" Vaggie asked as they slumped onto the couch beside her.
Alastor couldn't help but note, from his hiding place, the way the act of sitting changed their body. They were beautiful standing, stunning even, but something about the way their thighs spread out over the surface of the couch...
"Yeah." Y/n grumbled, "Just... bummed."
"Oh no!" Charlie exclaimed, walking away from the bulletin board she was planning their next lesson on and joining the pair, "What happened?"
"It's stupid." Y/n groaned, throwing their head back.
"Wrong guy hit on you?" Angel teased and they immediately righted themselves, shooting him a glare.
"No." they pointedly replied, "Just... that nail polish? Berry Naughty or whatever its called? The one that matched my Spicy Sienna gloss?"
"Damn, you're pulling out the color names." Angel laughed, "Yeah, I know. What about it?"
"I can't find my bottle anywhere and I went to like seven different stores today and none of them had it! Not one! You didn't borrow it, did'ya Ant?"
Angel put a hand to his chest dramatically.
"Who, me?"
Y/n rolled their eyes.
"Nah." he waved them off, "You know I always ask before I borrow. I learned that lesson about you the hard way."
Y/n sighed despondently again.
"I'm sorry." Charlie hummed, patting Y/n's knee comfortingly, "I know it was making you really happy."
"It's silly." they shook their head, "It's just nail polish."
"Yeah but, it clearly brought you a lot of joy." Charlie insisted, "What if I ask Nifty to keep an eye out for it around the hotel?"
Alastor almost let the shadows hiding him from the group in the corner of the room dissolve in shock. He hadn't expected that. He had really thought everyone would just let it go. Yes, he knew Y/n would probably be upset about it for a few days but, that just gave him all the more of an excuse to be near them, to comfort them.
"Really Charlie?" Y/n brightened immediately, "You'd do that for me?"
"Of course! I mean, I'm not making any promises but, you know."
Y/n pulled themselves from the couch, throwing their arms around Charlie's neck.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"It's just a nail polish." Vaggie chuckled, watching the interaction warmly.
Y/n let go of Charlie, who shrugged back at her girlfriend.
"It makes them happy."
Two weeks had gone by with no sign of the bottle of nail polish. Y/n still went to the stores every few days, checking for the color, but had yet to have any luck. Nifty too had come up empty handed.
Alastor was very pleased with himself. The trick of using his shadows to empty every store in the surrounding area of the color before Y/n went shopping was something he was particularly proud of.
Of course, all along, he knew where the missing item was. It was in the top drawer of his night table on the right hand side of his bed. Nifty only went in to clean his room maybe once a month or so and she knew better than to snoop. It was all going off without a hitch, even the comforting aspect. Alastor had had the absolute pleasure and honor of showing up at just the right place, at just the right time (imagine that), so as to be included with Angel when Y/n had the bright idea to see if she could find any other matching colors between her vast collection of lipsticks and lipglosses and even larger collection of nail polish. He wasn't sure how their hands could sustain that much acetone, or their skin that much makeup remover, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.
Alastor was in his studio, fixing one of the control panels, his mind filled with spinning memories of the past couple days (Y/n had even hugged him! The feeling of the cushion of their waist against his arms, their stomach, was not one he would soon forget), when he heard a knock at the door. He straightened up, eyeing it suspiciously.
The guests of the Hazbin Hotel, as well as its staff, knew better than to disturb him while he was at work. It's owners, on the other hand, were much more foolhardy. He ran a hand over his hair, straightening it a bit so as to make himself presentable, and called for the knocker to enter.
The door creaked as it swung open, just like Alastor wanted it to. A creaky door was a good thing, it made sure most people couldn't sneak up on him when he was at his most vulnerable, most distracted.
"You'll want to grease that." Y/n hummed as they stepped into the dingy space, "I think we have some WD40 in the basement, if you want me to bring it up for you."
They had never come to visit him up here before, never dared even come near the rotting wooden door. Alastor walked forward, shutting the door behind Y/n now that they were fully in the room. He was close enough to feel their breath on his skin as he smiled down at them.
"No need, my dear, although, I do appreciate the offer."
A silence fell between the pair as Y/n took a few steps further into the room, their eyes running across every surface available before them. Alastor noticed their hands were clasped behind their back. It wasn't an unusual position for them but, something seemed different about it this time.
"What can I help you with?" he cordially asked and Y/n turned to face him.
"Well... I... um..." they locked eyes with Alastor, finding their words at last, "Nifty found something today. While she was cleaning."
Alastor was glad Y/n's demon form was not all that powerful in this moment. If it was, they would have heard his heartbeat spike. His voice, his demeanor, even his expression were easy to control but his heart? Not so much.
"Oh?"
"Yeah... I..." Y/n trailed off.
With a sigh, they brought their hands forward, opening them to reveal the source of Alastor's anxiety. Nestled there, in the softness of their palm, was the nail polish.
"She found it! Congratulations, my dear. You must be thrilled."
"Yeah." Y/n replied uncertainly, looking away.
Alastor knew why they were so uncomfortable, but his hope was stronger. There was an uncanny sense of optimism in him, one that was unfounded and unfamiliar. It drove him to pry, to see how much they really knew. For all Alastor knew, there could be something else entirely going on.
"Where was it?"
"I..." Y/n looked back at him once again, "That's the problem, Alastor. Nifty said... well, she said she found it in your room."
"In my room?" Alastor repeated, feigning confusion, a hand to his chest in mock surprise.
Y/n nodded.
"In your night table drawer."
They must have known him better than he thought, have seen the flash of sudden anger in his eyes or something like that, maybe he had tense his body. Whatever had ticked them off, they continued.
"She didn't open it. Nift said it was open and went to close it and just... spotted it in there so don't get mad at her, she didn't do anything wrong."
Alastor stood in silence, watching Y/n carefully.
"I just... Look, I'm not mad, I am just confused. Why was it in your room, did you take it from me?"
A shock of nerves fluttered in Alastor's stomach. The heat rushed to his cheeks and he looked away, a hand flying instinctually to his collar and tugging at it just the slightest bit, as if the room was too hot. It was all the answer Y/n needed.
"Why?"
Alastor turned back to Y/n and nearly stumbled back a few steps when he realized how much closer they had brought themselves to him. Nearly every other time, he was the one to bridge the distance, to step into their personal space. His breath caught in his throat, a sort of thrill flooding his mind.
"I... I..."
He had stuttered. Alastor didn't stutter. He had never stuttered, not even when he was alive.
"You..?" Y/n prompted, leaning forward slightly.
His mind was reeling. He couldn't tell if that was their goal, secretly, if they had finally realized the effect they had on him and begun to use it to their advantage. Alastor looked away again.
"It was..."
"You knew it was my favorite. Why did you take it?"
Fuck.
They were upset, maybe even angry. Alastor had seen them mad before but it had never been directed towards him. Normally, he would relish in the wrath of another but Y/n's wrath? Fuck. He realized right then and there, he would rather die.
"Husk." he admitted at last, his hands now fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, his face flushed.
Alastor dared a glance at Y/n. Their brow was furrowed.
"Husk?"
"Yeah. Husk."
"I... why Husk? Did he dare you? Did he... I... what?"
Whatever feelings they had previously held had been replaced by pure confusion. Alastor could handle confusion. The situation at large was still unwelcome and rather untenable but, at least there was the confusion.
"He..." Alastor cleared his throat, brave enough to meet their eyes again at last, "He noticed."
"Noticed.... oh."
"Yeah."
They fell silent. This wasn't a thing Alastor had felt since he was very young. There was a wild animal in his chest. In this moment, he didn't just look like a deer, he was one and Y/n was the hunter with their gun trained on the spot between his eyes.
"It wa-"
"Did you also take it off the shelves all over the neighborhood?"
They had always been smart, smarter than he gave them credit for. Alastor grimaced, nodding slowly.
"Alastor, why did it bother you so much? Is it illegal to match my nails to my lips? Does it go against your... your weird ass deontological code?"
"No, it's just... it was... fuck!"
Y/n had never heard him curse before. A hand flew to Alastor's head, he took a deep breath.
"Alastor, I-"
"It was for me, okay? I... I didn't want anyone else noticing. It was just for me."
Y/n looked somehow even more confused as he lowered his hand once again. The releif that had accompanied the admission was greatly outweighed by his anxiety as he waited for their response.
"But Angel noticed too? Before Husk?"
"That's different." Alastor sighed, "He... You... I..."
"Alastor, what's going on?"
There was concern now, lacing their voice in its gentle vines. It almost made everything worse.
"I like you, okay!? There. Are you happy now!?"
He didn't know why he was yelling. Y/n's eyes went wide.
"You... like me? Like, like like me?"
He glared at them and they put their hands up in surrender.
"Just trying to clarify the situation!"
Alastor rolled his eyes, crossing his arms protectively over his chest.
"Yes. I... like like you or... whatever nonsense you just said. Are you happy now?"
It was a stand off, each training a metaphorical pistol at the other. Y/n was the one to finally break.
"Yes." they curtly replied, crossing their arms to mirror his position, "I'll... I'll let you get back to work now."
Someone had driven a nail right through Alastor's chest and into his heart. He watched their retreating form as they opened the door and slipped out into the hallway. Just as it was about to fall shut, they miraculously stuck a foot between the closing door and its frame, peeking their head back into the room.
"Just so you know: if you asked me out on a date," they began, their eyes flicking up to his from where they had previously been fixed on the floor, "I'd say yes."
-----
A/N Ant is a pretty common nickname for Anthony in NYC (where I am from and where I'm pretty sure Angel is supposed to be from). Yes, I will be using it in another fic I am working on too (its part two of Unexpected (Vox x Reader). Also,, deontology is when you have a strict set of ethical rules/maxims you stick by no matter what (Kant is a deontologist).
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