Introduction:

Trope- King of Hell x Angel from heaven

Characters- Azazel and Sera

Title- When he is "King of hell" for others but "Pookie" for his wife.

Mood- Forbidden, Intense, Corrupted.

In a world where demons and angels are rivals. Demons and angels hate each other with a deep and burning passion, their opposing viewpoints and conflicting values leading them to despise one another and fight to the death over their differences.

Angels and demons mutual hatred and desire for power fueling a conflict that has been raging for centuries. As the feared king of hell, Azazel is the ultimate embodiment of this rivalry and a symbol of the demons' wrath and rage.

You, an angel, find yourself captured and dragged to the depths of Hell. A group of demons throw you into a cell, they tormented and threatened to cut your wings off. After a while, an imposing presence enters the room. Your fears take over as you realize this is Azazel, the dreaded King of Hell.

The first time Azazel saw her, she was crying. A mortal. Soft. Breakable. So damn human.

He should’ve walked past her. He had centuries of blood on his hands, kingdoms under his feet. But something about her—those trembling hands clutching a soaked book in the rain—held him still. A god of death, frozen by a girl with mascara running down her cheeks.

He fell in love. And when the King of Hell falls in love, it isn't sweet. It’s a war cry. Azazel didn’t court her. He claimed her.

Whispers turned into gasps when he married her in the shadow of the underworld’s obsidian temple, the Crown of Fire resting on his head, and her trembling in white beside him.

The realms whispered, “She’s just an angel.”

And the King answered, “She’s mine.” But love, for her, was wrapped in fear. She flinched at the fire in his eyes. She kissed him like he’d burn her lips. She laid beside him like she might be devoured in her sleep. Still… she wore his ring. Still… she bore his mark—etched in infernal flame across the curve of her shoulder. And still… he never raised a single cruel word to her. Not once. Because monsters may rule Hell. But monsters fall harder when they love.

He stands before you as his red eyes bore into yours, lifting your chin to make you look at him."Welcome to Hell, Sera," he leans and whispers to you.

"Do not touch me." You said pulling away from him.

His eyes narrow as you pull away from his touch, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Feisty little angel, aren't you?" He says, his voice dripping with amusement.

"You're in no position to be giving orders here." He reaches out and grabs your wings, holding them tightly.

You looked at him..."If you did anything to my wings. Just know that you'll be dead. I will kill you." Saying this you jerk away his hand Azazel's grip tightens momentarily before he releases your wings with a chuckle.

"Such fierce words from such delicate lips, I would love to know what else they are useful for." he murmurs, circling around you like a predator. "But let me remind you, angel - I am Azazel, King of Hell. I don't fear death."

"Oh you will. Once you are sent to human world and turned like a normal human." You said with a smirk.

He stops in his tracks, his red eyes flashing with anger and surprise. "Is that a threat?" He steps closer, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you can send me to the human world? You think I fear becoming mortal?" He grabs your chin again, forcing you to look at him."Let me tell you something, Sera," he whispers, his thumb stroking your jawline. "I've ruled this hell for centuries. I've seen powers come and go. Do you really think turning me mortal frightens me?" He leans closer, his breathing hot against your face.

"What do you want from me Azazel?"A slow, wicked smile spreads across Azazel's face.

"What do I want? I want to break that perfect little angel," he says, his hand sliding down to wrap around your throat possessively. "I want to see that heavenly light in your eyes dim as I corrupt you."

"What?" You said confused.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks softly. "I want you to become my queen of hell," he murmurs, sending shivers down your spine. "I want those wings to be stained black by my side." He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes.

Your eyes widened..."You- you are joking. Right?"

Azazel's smirk deepens, and he shakes his head slowly. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he asks, his voice low and serious. "I want an angel by my side, someone who can challenge me and keep me entertained. Someone whose purity can contrast with my darkness."

"This is against the rule, Azazel" You screamed.

His soliders eyes turning to you, wide. Because no one has ever talked to him like that. No one dares to take his name.

His eyes narrow dangerously at your outburst "And who, my little angel, is going to enforce those rules down here?" The room goes completely silent, the soldiers barely breathing "I AM the rules in Hell. And for the first time in centuries...No one has screamed my name like that,"

His soldiers exchange shocked looks. They've never seen him like this. He's either feared or obeyed. No one has ever snapped at him like you just did.

"You know what's the funniest part?" He chuckles softly.

You stamp you foot like a child. "What now?"

Azazel's grin widens as he takes a step closer to you. "The funniest part is," he whispers, his hot breath caressing your cheek, "you think you can defy me."

Goosebumps appear in the back of your spine. "Don't act like you are in control anymore."

His hand suddenly grabs your wrist tightly, pulling you flush against his chest. The room gasps collectively as their king manhandles an angel right before their eyes. "Is that so?" he growls lowly, his face inches from yours.

"Then make me stop." His thumb presses firmly over your pulse point. His hot breath fanning your lips.

"I can."

His soldiers watch the scene unravel in shock. They've never seen their king like this. He's either deadly serious or cruelly humorous. He's never been... challenged.

"Prove it," He whispers softly, his eyes dropping to your lips.

You tip toe...but still he is taller than you...."Lean" you whisper.

His eyes meet yours, a dangerous desire flickering in them. Slowly, deliberately, he leans down just enough that your lips are barely inches apart. "Make me," he dares, his voice a husky whisper against your mouth.

The room watches in tension, unable to breathe. You wrap a hand around his neck pulling him in. As soon as your lips touch his, Azazel's control snaps. He kisses you with a fierce, desperate hunger, pouring centuries of pent-up desire into the embrace. His free hand grips your waist possessively as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist without breaking the kiss. "Mine,"

"I thought you were in control." You mock seeing him losing his control.

He breaks the kiss abruptly, his chest heaving with anger and unsated lust. "Shut up," he snarls, carrying you towards his throne room instead of his bedroom like he initially intended.

His soldiers scatter out of the way, whispering among themselves about their king losing his mind over an angel.

I pull away..."You-we can't do it right now." I whisper. He stops mid-stride, his arms tightening around you possessively before slowly lowering you to the ground. His expression turns cold and angry again.

"Fine," He bites out, turning away from you abruptly. "Get out of my sight before I change my mind and fuck you right here on the cold floor."

"You carried me here. You will carry me back to my room. I'm not staying in cell. It's creepy there." You said holding his hand.

He looks down at your hand holding his, his expression softening slightly despite himself. With a grunt, he lifts you back up into his arms, carrying you out of the throne room and back to your bedroom. He kicks the door open and carries you inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

Wrapping your arms around his neck...."till marriage."

His arms tighten around you involuntarily at your whispered words. "Marriage?" he repeats softly, almost dangerously. "You mean till I make you my queen? Till these wings are officially stained black by my crown?" He carries you to the bed instead of dropping you off like planned.You nodded holding his gaze.

"Let me get this straight," He whispers softly, his eyes searching yours. "No kissing, no touching below the waist, no sleeping in the same bed until wedding night?" He grins mischievously, already finding this challenging as hell. No pun intended.

"Yes. And you will obey." You said placing your hands on his chest to push him back. He allows you to push him back slightly, but his hands remain firmly gripped around your waist. A low chuckle escapes him as he leans in close enough that his lips nearly brush your ear. "Obey? Little angel, I haven't obeyed anyone in centuries."

"But you will, now. I'm already your Queen, in here." You said patting his chest, indicating his heart. Pushing him out of your bedroom door.

He stumbles out of the room, his hands still holding onto you until the last second. The door slams in his face and he stands there for a moment, stunned. His soldiers watch him with wide eyes as he adjusts his suddenly tight pants. "She's going to be the death of me,"

Inside your room, you were thinking how did you give in so easily to marriage proposal and not just that but you initiated the kiss. That’s not like you. You were changing. Acknowledging your desires for him. King of hell. Sighing you plopped into bed.

"Maybe he has already corrupted few parts of me."

You whispered to yourself. Surprisingly, not afraid of this change.

Meanwhile, Lucifer is pacing his throne room, his mind racing with thoughts of you. The way you tasted, the feel of your wings against his hands, the commanding way you spoke to him. He's never been so hard up for someone before. Especially not an angel. Especially not his enemy. "Fuck,"

He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. "I need to fucking cool down," he mutters to himself, adjusting his pants again. He knows he can't just storm back into your room and ravage you like he wants to.

Instead, he settles for taking a cold shower. He stands under the icy water for what feels like hours, but his erection remains stubbornly hard. "Goddamn it," he groans, leaning against the wall and wrapping a hand around his length. "She's going to kill me."

He strokes himself slowly, imagining your soft hands replacing his. Your angelic face flushed with desire as you take him into your mouth. He bites back a moan, his hips jerking forward into his hand. "Angel," he whispers, losing himself in the fantasy. He comes hard and fast, his release hitting the shower wall with a loud splat.

He leans there panting, his hand still wrapped around his sensitive length. "Fuck..." He turns off the water and steps out, feeling no relief whatsoever. If anything, he wants you more now. Much more.

“I fucking hate this," he mutters, toweling himself off roughly. For the first time in his existence, he understands why those pathetic humans fall in love - the constant wanting, the frustration, the goddamn need. "She's turned me into a lovesick fool," Maybe you have also soften few parts of him.

Slowly the night wears off.

The next morning, Azazel finds himself standing outside your door again, his hand hovering over the handle. He's been awake all night, torn between staying away and bursting into your room. In the end, his curiosity and desire win out. He knocks firmly on the door.

"Come in." You said from inside. He enters the room, his eyes immediately drawn to you sitting on the bed, looking disheveled and sleep-rumpled. Your wings are partially unfolded behind you, and you're rubbing your eyes sleepily. He swallows hard, his morning wood twitching painfully at the sight."Morning,"

"Morning"

He approaches the bed slowly, like you're a skittish animal he doesn't want to scare off. "Did you sleep well?" he asks, sitting down next to you. He can feel the heat radiating off your body and it takes all his willpower not to pull you into his lap.

“Yes.” You said rubbing your eyes.

He watches your movements, his eyes lingering on your lips. "You look...tired," he comments softly. His hand reaches out and catches yours before you can rub your eyes again. He brings your fingers to his lips instead, kissing them gently. "I missed you"

Your eyes met his. "I-..." He holds your gaze, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. He sees the confusion and hesitation in your eyes and his heart clenches painfully.

"I know this is...unusual," he says quietly, his voice rough with emotion. "But I can't ignore these feelings any longer."

I nodded. "Me too. And I don't want to anymore."

His eyes widen slightly, as if he hadn't expected you to admit it so openly. A slow smile spreads across his face, and he leans in closer. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear you say that," he murmurs. His hand moves from your fingers to cup your cheek gently.

After that he left your room and you got ready. He told you about the wedding. It's this weekend. As the weekend approaches, the castle is filled with an unusual atmosphere of excitement and nervousness. The servants are bustling around, preparing everything for the big event. And in the center of it all is Azazel, looking more handsome than ever in his royal attire.

On the day of the wedding, Azazel paces back and forth in his chambers, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and anxiety. He can't believe the day has finally come. He checks his reflection in the mirror, adjusting his crown and straightening his suit. As the clock strikes noon, the wedding ceremony begins. Azazel stands at the altar, his eyes fixed on the door where you will soon appear. The guests murmur excitedly as they wait for the bride to walk down the aisle. Suddenly, the music starts playing and the doors open.

The moment you step into view, Azazel's breath catches in his throat. You're stunning - your white dress flowing like angel wings, your hair up in an elegant style, and those beautiful wings spread slightly behind you. He swallows hard, completely captivated by your radiance. As you walk down the aisle, Azazel can hardly believe his eyes. Every step you take is like a dream come true. When you reach the altar, he extends his hand to help you up the steps. As your fingers intertwine with his, he feels an overwhelming sense of love and possession.

You look up at him...a contended look on your face. Azazel's heart melts at the look on your face - pure contentment and happiness directed at him. A genuine smile spreads across his face, making him look almost boyish instead of menacingly handsome.

The priest clears his throat softly, starting the ceremony. "Dearly beloved..." Throughout the ceremony, Azazel can't take his eyes off you. He listens to the priest's words, but his focus is solely on you - your beauty, your presence, your love. When the priest says "You may now kiss the bride," Azazel doesn't hesitate. He pulls you close possessively, one hand cupping the back of your neck softly, the other around your waist. He kisses you deeply, putting all his love and desire into it.

The guests around them sigh and whisper romantic comments. When he pulls back, your cheeks are flushed beautifully. He grins. Your breathing shorten. Your cheeks heating.

You heard at heaven that weddings here are different since it's devil's wedding. As the kiss ends and you pull away slightly breathless, Azazel leans in close to your ear and whispers huskily, "Don’t think too much about it. Our wedding night will be very different indeed, my love. Devils have their own special traditions." His finger gently traces your bottom lip still tingling from the kiss.

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Did you read my mind? How?”

“We are married now, Sera. We both can hear each other’s thoughts now.” Leaning down he whispered. “Every thought.”

You saw many demons coming to congratulate you. The hall fills with demons congratulating you - some with red skin and horns, others with dark wings or snake-like bodies. They bow respectfully before you, their new queen.

"Congratulations, your majesty,"

"You make a beautiful couple,"

"The king has finally fallen." They whisper.

Yes whisper, because they are not allowed to speak in front of him.

He notices their whispers, a small smirk playing on his lips. He loves how intimidating his presence makes them, showing both respect and slight fear. He holds you closer, placing a protective hand on your lower back while they file past. Occasionally he nods imperceptibly to some of his higher-ranking demons.

The ballroom sparkled with darkness. Creatures of shadow and bone, witches older than stars, demons in velvet—every elite from every corner of the supernatural world was there.

Her hands were sweating. Not because she thought Azazel would hurt her—but because the crowd of monsters might, and she didn’t believe she was worth protecting.

She stood beside Azazel. A porcelain doll among monsters. His hand never left her waist. His aura of fire kept them away—most of them. But power brings arrogance. And not everyone respects an angel bride.

He turned for a moment. To greet the High Vampire Lord. That’s all it took. A single fucking moment.

The elite demon prince of the East—a serpent in gold silk—cornered her near the obsidian pillars. He smelled her fear and fed off it.

“Such soft skin,” he hissed, brushing her arm. “Tell me, little queen… does your husband fuck you good?”

She froze. Her breath caught.

His claws slid down the curve of her spine. Until— Azazel returned.

She ran to him moments later, lips trembling, eyes wide. She didn’t tell him what happened. Not exactly. She was still scared. Of him. Of what he’d do. But he knew. He fucking knew. The scent of fear clung to her.

And someone else’s touch dared stain his woman. Azazel didn’t rage. Not in the ballroom. He simply looked at the elite prince, smiled, and kissed his wife’s knuckles like she was glass.

He whispered, “Go back to your room, Sera.” She looked at him, frightened, confused.

“Now.” His voice was silk. But it licked like lava.

That night… the Eastern Kingdom burned. Azazel didn’t send a warning. Didn’t demand an apology. Didn’t offer the prince a chance to beg.

He rained fire. Real fire. Hellfire. The skies cracked red. The walls melted into screams. Demons choked on ash and begged for mercy as the kingdom turned to smoke. Azazel descended into the prince’s palace, dragging his charred body out onto the black marble steps.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t ask. He just looked into his eyes as he tore his fucking heart out barehanded—

And whispered: “You touched what’s mine.”

Then he threw the corpse into the flames…And smiled as it screamed.

She heard the news. Felt the earth tremble. Watched from the balcony as fire lit up the sky from across the realm.

He came home, hours later. Shirtless. Burned. Bloody. He looked like war incarnate. And she… she stared at him with wide eyes.

He steps towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck. Closing your eyes at the feeling of his hot breath. His hands slide up your sides as you turn, gripping your hips possessively. He looks down at you with intense, burning desire. "From now on, you'll be sleeping in my bed, wearing my rings, and carrying my name," he growls softly, pulling you flush against him.

Your breath hitched...He watches your reaction closely - the way your chest rises with each breath, your beautiful neck exposed as you arch back slightly. His voice drops lower, "Do you know what happens tonight in a devil's wedding?" He asks softly, his thumbs caressing your hips bone.

Your cheeks reddened, thinking it's your wedding night. "I don't." You whisper as he carries.

A slow, wicked grin spreads across his face as he lifts you into his arms, bridal style. "Tonight, I claim you fully as my queen," he says darkly, carrying you towards the grand four-poster bed. He sits down on the edge, holding you in his lap.

His fingers slowly unbuttoning your wedding dress. He sees the flush on your cheeks deepen as you remember his earlier words. His hands pause in their movements, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He leans in, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss just below your ear. "Remember what I told you about devil traditions?"

"What?" You whispered.

His hand slides up your thigh possessively as he whispers huskily, "Devils mark their mates on the wedding night. A ritual bite that binds our souls together forever." His teeth gently scrape along your pulse point,

"Will my queen allow her king this honor?"

You nodded.

With a satisfied growl, he turns your head to the side, exposing your neck. He kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin, marking you with his mouth. Then, with a sharp prick, he bites down, his fangs piercing your skin.

He moans softly at the taste of your blood, feeling your bond strengthen. After a moment, he removes his fangs, licking the wound closed. He turns your face to his, showing you the two tiny puncture marks glistening red.

"My mark. My queen..."

You look up at him....leaning to him you kiss at the side of his lips. His kiss becomes deeper, more passionate as he responds to your touch. One hand moves to grip your hair while the other slides under your dress, caressing your bare skin.

"Fuck," he groans into your mouth, lifting you effortlessly onto the bed. He begins unbuttoning his own shirt...As he removes his shirt, he reveals his muscular chest, adorned with tattoos and scars. He climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. His eyes burn with desire as he looks down at your half-unbuttoned dress. "Let me undress my queen,"

He reaches out, slowly unbuttoning your dress again.

"I'm scared, Azazel."

His expression immediately softens, all dominance fading. He cups your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Shh, love... I would never hurt you. Especially not on our wedding night." He presses a tender kiss to your lips.

"Let me show you how gentle I can be." His hand moves downwards towards the hem of your dress, "But please... let me show how much I love my queen tonight."He smiles warmly, slowly but surely unbuttoning your dress, his movements gentle and worshipping. His eyes meet yours. "Every devil dreams of the day they meet their mate. And here you are..." He pushes the dress off your shoulders completely, leaving you bare.

His eyes darken with desire as he takes in your naked form, but his touch remains reverent. "You're perfection itself." He starts trailing kisses down your neck, over your collarbones, avoiding sensitive areas intentionally to keep you comfortable. "Every devil is rough, violent..."

"...but with you, I want to be gentle. I want to cherish you." He moves lower, kissing your breasts softly before moving down your stomach. He looks up at you from between your thighs, his eyes filled with tenderness.

"I want to make love to my queen tonight."

You sucked in a breath at his words.

"Azazel."

His eyes snap up to meet yours. He sees your chest rising and falling quickly, your body tensing slightly. He realizes you've probably never heard those words - "make love". He swallows hard, his voice dropping softer, "Do you know what that means?"

You nodded*He watches you carefully, his voice low. "Slow. Tender. No hard thrusts. No biting. No devil roughness." He grins slightly, "Can I make love to you, my innocent queen?" His thumbs spread your thighs wider without waiting for an answer.

"Yes King." You don't know why you just called him that. Maybe it's the submissive side in you that appears everytime he is with you.

His eyes darken possessively. He loves when you call him "King". It makes him want to throw you down and ravish you like a true devil. But he remembers his plan - slow. Tender. He spreads your thighs wider, his mouth descending... "My innocent queen..."

He kisses you gently between your thighs, his tongue slowly licking up your slit. He hears you gasp and grip his hair tightly. He smiles against you, continuing his slow, gentle kisses and licks. He wants to worship every inch of you with his mouth before he enters you.

"Shh..."You moaned as your toes curl. He listens to your sweet moans, his tongue continuing its gentle assault. He can feel you growing wetter with each lick. He sucks gently on your clit, his fingers spreading you wider. He wants to drive you crazy with pleasure before he enters you. "So sweet..."

"Your tongue..." You whisper feeling tickled. He hears your whispered words and chuckles against your pussy, his warm breath causing you to jump slightly. He knows his tongue is long and skilled. He flicks it against your clit again and again, feeling you squirm.

"Does my queen like my tongue?"

You nodded. "Yes"

He watches as you nod, his grin widening. He loves hearing you say "yes" to him. He loves hearing your sweet little gasps and moans. He hooks his arms under your legs and pulls you closer, burying his face between your legs. "Does my queen want more of my tongue?"

"Yes...I want-"You can barely get the words out before he's plunging his long, thick tongue inside you. He fucks you with his tongue, his mouth sucking on your pussy like a hungry devil. He reaches up and spreads your lips open, watching his tongue disappear inside you. "Mmmm..."

"Ahhh" He smiles at your breathy cries, continuing his rhythm with his tongue. One hand moves to your breast, kneading it gently while he continues his oral worship. "Cum on my tongue, my innocent queen..." His tongue finds your sweet spot and presses against it firmly. "Let me taste you..."

One last flick and you came undone on his face.He feels your body shudder and hears your sweet cries of pleasure as you cum on his face. He continues to lick you gently through your orgasm, savoring your taste. When you finally stop shaking he moves up your body slowly, kissing your stomach softly.

"My queen..."

Grabbing him by his shoulder you pull him up.

"Come here." You whispered.

He lets you pull him up, his body hovering over yours. He sees the desire in your eyes - for him. He swallows hard, his voice dropping lower, "What do you want, my queen?"

His cock presses against your entrance teasingly. "Do you want me inside?"

"Yes." You said before kissing him. He kisses you back deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as he slowly pushes inside you. You're tight and warm, and it feels like heaven.

He breaks the kiss to whisper, "I love you..." And then he starts to move, gently at first but quickly picking up pace. "My queen..."

Wrapping your legs around his waist you whispered back. "I love you too."

He groans at your words, feeling his love for you intensify with each thrust. He holds your legs up higher, changing the angle and going deeper. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room along with your moans and his growls. You pussy is so wet that with each stroke you can hear it making sounds.He can feel your wetness coating his cock, making each thrust even more pleasurable. The wet, squelching sounds of your bodies coming together fill the room as he fucks you harder. He leans down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans.

"I'm gonna cum..."

He breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged as he looks into your eyes.

"Cum with me, my queen."

He grunts, slamming into you deeply. He reaches between your bodies and rubs your clit firmly, using your wetness to help him move faster. He watches your face closely, seeing your eyes flutter shut and your mouth open in a silent scream as you cum hard around his cock. Feeling your walls clench around him sends him over the edge. He buries himself deep inside you and let’s go, filling you up with his hot seed.

He pulls back to look at your beautiful face, his voice softer. "Sera." He slows his thrusts down, making love to you instead of fucking you hard like before. Your cheeks are flushed as sweat cover your forehead after the orgasm.

He leans down to press gentle kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and lips, tasting the salt of your sweat. He continues to move inside you slowly, drawing out both of your pleasure. His hands caress your body softly, showing you his love and adoration. He stays inside you for a long moment, both of you catching your breath. Then he gently pulls out and rolls to the side, pulling you into his arms so that your head rests on his chest. He strokes your hair as he holds you, feeling content and fulfilled in a way he never has before.

You sigh as you nuzzle to him. Your naked body against his. He wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you close. He buries his face in your hair and inhales your scent, committing it to memory. In that moment, he knows that he would do anything for you - kill, conquer, rule the very heavens and hells themselves. As the night wears on, he stays awake holding you, his mind racing with thoughts of love and possession.

He makes a silent vow to himself that he will make you his queen in every sense of the word - his wife, his lover, his everything. "Sleep, baby..."

He feels your breathing even out and knows you've fallen asleep. He smiles softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He stays awake for a while longer, just enjoying the feeling of holding you in his arms. Eventually, exhaustion takes over and he drifts off to sleep as well.