Summary: Elizabeth and Meliodas have a standoff about a delicate situation that ends them both up in uncomfortable positions. Oneshot.

A/N: This is for all the thirsty Melizabeth shippers out there, and you know who you are. Rating for explicit material ahead.

Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. Once in a while she stole a glance to the door to the washroom, where inside Meliodas was getting himself ready for the day ahead. Every sound made her jump as she waited for him to emerge, dread spreading through her for what was about to happen—or rather, what she was about to do.

Finally, the door swung open, and she sucked in a breath. He grinned at her as he headed towards the closet, and Elizabeth blushed and hung her head, peeking at him through her bangs. This is what he did every morning: first to wash up, and then to dress, whether she was in the room or not. Meliodas was not shy in the least, changing clothes in front of her without a single thought; not that it mattered much, now that their relationship had moved from enemies to friends to lovers. Usually she tried to be up and ready before he stirred anyway, to make sure they actually made it out of the bedroom they shared at the building that housed the Stigma troops at an actually decent hour.

Sometimes she slept in a bit, or for whatever reason the usual champion sleeper that shared a bed with her would be bouncing up in the dawn. When that happened Elizabeth would often find herself the subject of his affections—not that she minded it, not at all—and it allowed her to enjoy the demon she had grown to love more than anything.

Until last week. After a quick romp Meliodas was up and getting ready for the day as she sighed in the sheets, sauntering around the room as if he wanted her to ogle him, and ogle she did. The goddess had seen him in various states of undress before, between their shared living space, and his tendency to have his clothes burned and ripped off of him in battle… not to mention the sex. Lots of sex. She had nearly memorized the outlines of the muscular arms and torso, the curve of his back, the carved stomach, then down to the toned legs, the thick length that hung between, his entire frame fascinating, the alluring body not even beginning to hint the very real strength and power that was hidden inside.

So she had ogled him. And in that look, she saw part of him she had not properly admired, she realized: a hard, toned, rounded backside, that made her eyes nearly pop out of her head and her vision swim a little. Her mouth had gone dry, the backs of his thighs curving into the muscled flesh, blinking in astonishment when he pulled up his trousers, blocking the sight.

Once Elizabeth had regained some semblance of thought, she had made another realization: Meliodas did not wear any underclothes.

The prospect was as surprising as his body. She couldn't believe she had never known this, in the months they had been together. Even moreso during the day, watching him train, sitting with him at lunch or dinner or in a strategy meeting, when he would sneak a moment to wrap his hands around her. It would make her freeze up, her mind going blank, and Elizabeth resolved to speak to him about it. After all, he was a commander in their army. And a soldier was… well, he needed to be a gentleman. And gentlemen wore underclothes.

Meliodas had pulled off his sleeveless shirt that he always slept in and was about to push his sleeping pants down when she squeaked out, "Meliodas!"

He turned in surprise, his hands gripping the waistband of his pants. "Yes?" he laughed.

"Before you do that, I—I have something—to, uh—"

She cleared her throat, swallowing thickly around the lump in her throat. She was sure her face was the color of a tomato. Why was this so hard?

"Yes?" he prompted again. Meliodas stood up straight and folded his arms. "Everything all right?"

Elizabeth nodded fiercely, trying to meet his eyes. This would be so much easier if he would put on a shirt, and she was not subjected to his naked body! It only reminded her of all the sinful things they did together, sinful and fun and delicious and…

"I just wanted to discuss something with you," she said quickly. His brows went up a bit, and she squeezed her eyes shut, unable to think for another moment. "I noticed the other day that you don't wear any underclothes," Elizabeth blurted out in a rush. "And I think you should maybe try? Unless you're not comfortable, then that's fine, but usually people wear, underneath?" Her voice was getting higher and higher as her humiliation grew. "I'm just saying that you might be more comfortable as you work, and if you have to fight…"

The image of him fighting, one she had seen too many times, knowing that he was bare under his clothes sent a fresh wave of heat through her.

Get a grip, Elizabeth. Everyone is bare under their clothes.

The silent chastisement helped her take in a much-needed breath, and she opened her eyes. Meliodas was looking at her with a mixture of merriment, his smile twisting as he held in a laugh. "Is that so, Elizabeth?" he teased. "And how exactly do you know what I wear under my clothes?"

She pressed her lips together. "Don't be a tease."

"Sneaking a look, hm?" Elizabeth scowled to see his smile even wider. "You know, if you wanted a look, you could have just asked."

"I didn't-!" she said quickly. Her hands fisted at her sides and took a deep breath. "I just… thought you'd be more comfortable."

"Hmm." Meliodas crossed his arms, tapping his finger on his chin. "To be honest, demons don't wear much of anything. I guess I never thought about it before." He looked at her curiously. "Would it make you more comfortable?"

Elizabeth let go a shaky laugh. "I don't mind—I mean, it's up to you—"

"I got it!" Meliodas grinned again, his hands on his hips as he crossed the room. "I'll try on some of yours."

"What!?" Elizabeth scrambled to her feet, running to where Meliodas had just yanked open the drawer where she kept her own delicates. Quickly she pushed the drawer shut and stood between him and the dresser. "You can't go in there!"

"Why not?" he asked, seemingly genuinely confused. "It's not like I haven't seen them before."

She sucked in a breath, pressing her lips together. "I thought we could get you some of your own."

"But I like yours," he replied, in that way that made her wonder if he was teasing or not.

The two looked at one another in a stand-off until Elizabeth sighed. "Fine," she said, deciding to call his bluff. "You can wear a pair of mine."

She was pleased to see his eyebrows raise. With his eyes on hers, he reached around her, and Elizabeth stepped to the side. After a final glance he pulled open the drawer and began to rifle through her panties, bringing a fresh round of heat to her face. Finally he lifted a pair of black panties, made of delicate lace, a pair Elizabeth almost never wore because of how frilly and impractical she found them.

"How about these?" he said mockingly, spinning them a bit on a finger.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. "That's fine," she answered. "I don't even like those anyway."

Meliodas grinned and stepped back. He immediately pushed down his sleeping pants, standing fully naked, and Elizabeth struggled to keep her expression completely even. The demon had the nerve to flex just a bit as he pretended to figure out which way the panties would face, and she swallowed when her eyes floated downwards, her jaw clenching at the sight of his flesh.

Then he slipped a foot in, then another, and slowly he drew them over his calves and up his thighs, shaking his hips a bit to settle them on his body. "These aren't what I expected," he joked, and then Elizabeth bit her lip as he adjusted the fabric against the muscled backside, turning to look at himself over his shoulder. Then, the torture continued when his hands slid through the waistband to the front. Her mouth opened just a bit as she watched shamelessly as he pressed his hand down the front of the fabric, adjusting himself until there was a very noticeable bulge straining the resolve of the lace that kept it in check. "This could work," he mused, and then placed his hands on his hips. "What do you think?"

What did she think? She couldn't think, not one single thought, her eyes focused only on the curved outline of the shaft held in by the black lace. What did she think? That this was a terrible, awful, amazing idea, and that she wanted nothing more than to peel the fabric away—or rip it away—maybe tear it with her teeth? That the sight of him in her panties was more enticing and arousing than she would have ever guessed in a million years. That seeing him like that gave her all kinds of ideas that made her insides turn to lava. Her mind was blank and racing at the same time, her palms sweaty and her neck hot and her own clothes itchy and uncomfortable. What did she think?

That it would be a miracle that she would survive today.

"They look nice," she managed instead. Meliodas winked at her and went to put the rest of his clothes on, and as she saw the rounded bottoms of his cheeks peeking out of the the back of the panties, she thought, I'm in terrible trouble.

Trouble was an understatement.

Elizabeth was so flushed through breakfast that no less than four people asked her if she was feeling well. Shakily she would give a smile and nod, ignoring his hand sitting lazily on her thigh as it always did. Why did she ever let him do that? Why were they so affectionate in public? She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as his fingers massaged her leg until she finally turned as best as she could to talk to a fairy who had some very interesting theories on securing food from the forest. Elizabeth wished she could concentrate, but her thoughts would continuously drift back to Meliodas.

After breakfast they met with representatives from a human settlement needing protection and willing to negotiate supplies for soldiers. As the princess of the goddess clan, it was left to her to assess the situation and lead the talks, but it was so difficult with Meliodas standing on the other side of the room, still and silent with his arms folded. She cleared her throat and asked for water, gulping it down as the agreements were drawn up. Their new allies read it over and talked in hushed tones to one another, and as Elizabeth waited for their approval her eyes slid over to the demon.

At that very moment, he gave an almost imperceptible tug at the front of his pants, subtly adjusting himself, and Elizabeth cursed him for a solid two minutes in her mind.

The agreements made, she decided to go work off a bit of her frustrations. Sneaking away from Meliodas she headed to where the soldiers trained, wanting to do some work on her own. Elizabeth settled on target practice, gathering a set of small daggers and thanking the two young men who were working at the armory for setting up a target. Soon she was throwing knives at the bullseye several feet away, the rhythmic movement and necessary concentration helping to tame her nerves and cool her blood.

Until a certain demon showed up, calling her name and nearly making her drop one of the daggers. "Not bad," he murmured, stepping up next to her to examine the bullseye. "Want a contest? Best two out of three?"

"No thanks," she answered quickly, starting to head back to the armory to return the daggers. "I should go make rounds."

"I can come with you," he suggested, but Elizabeth shook her head.

"It's fine—" she began, but Meliodas stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Are you avoiding me?" he chuckled. "Is it because of this morning?"

Elizabeth laughed, wincing at the high pitch of her voice. "Don't be silly! That was funny." She flipped her long hair over her shoulder and gave her wings a little shake. "I just have some things to get done. I'll see you after lunch, okay?"

"Okay," he answered, frowning a bit as she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried away.

That was close, she breathed to herself. The last thing she needed was to watch him walking around the training fields, knowing what was under his clothing. She needed to stay focused and clear.

So like a complete fool, she looked back. Meliodas had picked up a short sword and was sparring with one of the armory boys, lifting the blade to demonstrate a technique and blocking when the boy would lunge forward. His voice drifted over as he gave an affirmation and held the sword up again, motioning for the boy to advance. Elizabeth's mouth went dry as he circled around, nodding and grinning when the boy successfully blocked his advance, pausing to point out something and adjust his wrist.

Spinning on her heel Elizabeth practically ran back towards the main building. She ignored any calls to her in greeting, walking swiftly and purposefully through the hallways until she stopped short outside of a little door. With a glance around she yanked it open, finding a small closet with a few supplies inside.

Once the door was shut behind her, there was only room for her to stand, but it was quiet and dark and private. Elizabeth listened to her shaky breathing, leaning backward with a soft thunk when her head pressed on the door. "Stupid Meliodas," she muttered and closed her eyes.

But all she saw was him: naked and grinning at her, sliding the fabric up his strong legs, leaning to the side to adjust himself. Standing in the corner of the room, watching her, his eyes heavy on her as a line of sweat broke out on her forehead. With another mumbled curse she quickly fumbled for the clasp on her pants and slid a hand inside, her fingers sliding on her skin and into her own panties, gritting her teeth to feel the fabric on the back of her hand as her fingertips grazed the very throbbing part of her. She bit her lip and began to quickly move her hand, picturing Meliodas in her mind's eye, shuddering in the dark closet as she sought some desperately needed relief.

Meliodas wasn't doing well by the time it came to retire at the end of the day. He understood now why demons never wore many clothes: clothes were awful.

All day long the lace rubbed against his skin, riding between his cheeks and making him walk funny until he could adjust. His shaft was held tightly against his body by the fabric, and although it wasn't unpleasant, it wasn't exactly comfortable either. What it did accomplish was make him very, very aware of himself, of his body, of what felt good, and how every step he took meant a brush between his legs.

What had begun as a fun experiment, something to tease Elizabeth with over her blushing and stammered suggestion, was beginning to backfire spectacularly. His goddess had been wonderfully flustered all morning, blushing and catching her gaze lingering on him through negotiations with some humans. She had managed to run off as he went to hear some reports, finding another excuse to slip away when he had found her again. Meliodas acted casual but could tell that she was holding it together by a thread, bothered to distraction by his stunt. He was loving it.

It was good enough for him to forgive the very odd feeling of fabric pressing between his cheeks or the way his body was heated by being bound so tightly. It was even enough for him to overlook the way there was a dull sort of ache very low in his core every time he sat down. But it was unforgivable when Elizabeth arrived to lunch flushed but happy, her eyes sparkling as she sat down next to him, chatting easily with the others at their table as she buttered a slice of bread.

This wasn't fun if she wasn't being tortured. And by the pink of her cheeks and the slight sheen on her skin and the imperceptible sound of her pulse having slowed down from its frantic race that morning, he knew what she had done to be so relaxed.

And that set him on a path of misery. Because now he could only picture it, Elizabeth finding relief somewhere—where, he wondered? an empty room? a closet? did she go all the way back to their quarters? he was going to go insane until he figured it out—and as her body shuddered as she found release she was thinking of him in these stupid panties and now they were way too tight.

Meliodas cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. He was about to go find some relief himself, briefly debating if he should just lift the goddess over his shoulder and carry her off since this was all her fault, when a scout came in with word that a group of demons were heading their way.

Off they went, a small band to see what they were doing and stop them, and of course Elizabeth insisted on going. He kept her within eyesight, and as they crouched hidden in the underbrush of the forest, listening for the band's approach, he was never more aware that he was wearing Elizabeth's lace panties.

Until the fighting began. Then, as he weaved with his sword, keeping one eye on Elizabeth who was holding her own as he fought a demon, several things became clear. One, she was amazing, the practice she had been doing paying off as she easily disarmed and subdued her opponent. Two, there was absolutely nothing hotter than watching his goddess kick a guy in the stomach. And three, his reaction to one and two now had his underwear situation in a literal critical junction, and the distraction earned him a slice on the arm and the fear that he was going to die, here in this forest, wearing women's underwear.

With a growl of frustration at this ridiculous day he sent a wave of magic at his opponent, finally able to step back and catch his breath, the throbbing in his arm absolutely nothing compared to the throbbing between his legs. Then of course Elizabeth was there, her hair mussed and cheeks flushed and looking like a vision as she fussed over his arm and healed him. He grit his teeth, pretending it was from the wound from the fight, and was happy to be heading back to camp once the demons were rounded up.

Their group headed towards the stream to wash up, and Meliodas froze. He couldn't undress in front of them without his secret being revealed. Elizabeth must have noticed the flush on his cheeks, because she pressed him towards a shaded area that was hidden behind some trees, giggling as she left him there with a wink and turned to stand watch. He muttered under his breath as he quickly stripped, groaning to feel the cool water on his hot and sweaty skin, taking the time to really adjust himself in the cursed panties he was wearing.

Elizabeth flashed in his mind, and despite the cool water his body tightened. She really had been an absolute fantasy. Briefly he considered helping himself out of the predicament he was in, but then her voice alerted him that someone was coming, so quickly he washed himself and hurried out of the river, slipping his pants on in record time.

Then came the debriefing, and then dinner, which he ate alone as Elizabeth went to look after some of the injured. He was miserable by the time he returned to the room he shared with his goddess, ready to tear off the panties himself and go to bed.

She was waiting for him when he entered, and Meliodas couldn't help the huff that escaped him when he shut the door. At least, that's how it seemed; Elizabeth sat on the bed, brushing her hair, the smell of soap telling him she was freshly washed herself, dressed in only a loose sleeping gown. She smiled brightly at him and said, "There you are! I wondered where you went to."

"Did you get dinner?" he asked gruffly, heading to the closet to put up his belt and sword.

"Mm hmm. How is your arm?"

"It's fine." He pulled off his boots next, not bothering to turn around; but when he straightened up, she was there, her arms going around his shoulders.

Meliodas caught just a glimpse of her hooded eyes before she kissed him, a slow, deep kiss that had him pulling her body against his and groaning into her mouth in moments. He whispered her name before her tongue pushed into his mouth, and then her hands glided over his shoulders and down the front of him, grazing his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you today," she whispered, her lips still pressed against his.

Meliodas smiled, his eyes still closed. "Oh yeah?" he laughed. "What were you thinking about?"

She peeled the shirt from his arms and Meliodas let go of her hips long enough for her to pull it free and away. "I was thinking about this," she murmured. Then her lips moved to his neck as her hands moved to his belt.

He cleared his throat, an unexpected flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "What uh… what did you think?"

Elizabeth didn't answer, instead pushing his pants down over his hips until the fabric pooled around his ankles. Then her hand moved to the front, and boldly she cupped him in her palm, pressing the heel of her hand against the heavy length trapped underneath the lace. "I was thinking about how good you looked in these," she finally answered.

"Really?" His voice came out weird, halfway between surprise and a squeak, and to cover his embarrassment Meliodas stepped back. "You… liked this?"

She nodded, and suddenly he remembered the change in her from the morning to lunch. "How much did you like it?" he teased, putting his hands on his hips.

Her hands went to his chest and she pressed him back. "Let me show you," she said, practically purring the words at him, and somehow he was sitting on the edge of the bed, the goddess pushing his knees apart as she sank down on her own.

Meliodas hummed in pleasure as her hands slid along his ankles and up the backs of his calf muscles. "Let me take these off," he said, reaching for the panties, but Elizabeth grabbed his wrists and pushed his hands away.

"I want to see you up close." Her hands went to his thighs and pressed them even further open, and Meliodas leaned back to brace himself with his hands on the bed. With wide eyes he watched as she leaned forward and dragged her mouth along the skin of his inner thigh, and then her tongue slid out and traced the edge of the lace that wrapped around the bend of his leg.

"Elizabeth," he whispered, her breath feathering over him through the fabric. His arms shook slightly as his abdominal muscles quivered, watching in awe as her mouth slid over the bulge that was now straining upwards. His breath was coming out in short, shallow puffs, and as he involuntarily pressed his hips up towards her, her mouth opened, and then she swallowed him, fabric and all.

It was amazing. Elizabeth had used her mouth on him before—there was very little, if anything, they hadn't explored after giving up and giving in to one another—but this way, with his body bound so tightly and the fabric scraping on the sensitive flesh made him melt into the mattress and lit every single nerve ending on fire. His breathing went from the quick huffing to an all-out pant when she began moving and stroking him with her mouth; his eyes closed briefly and he shivered when her tongue began to stroke and tease him.

Meliodas could feel the fabric getting wetter and wetter, and as incredible as the sensation of her mouth moving through the lace was, it wasn't enough. Minutes ticked by in this slow, exquisite torment. He was frozen, trapped by her seductive moves and the press of her palms on his hips and the rhythmic bob of her head up and down. But when she began moaning around him, finally it started to become too much.

With a growl he plunged his hand into her hair, gripping her tightly and pulling her mouth away. Elizabeth gasped at the sudden movement, and then he yanked her upwards, trying to be careful but needing her now. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were wet and open when he bent down to kiss her, hard, his hand staying firmly behind her head as the other went to her back and hauled her against him.

"Meliodas," she groaned into his mouth, and then he turned them both, so that Elizabeth was on her back, her legs wrapped around him, and Meliodas stood next to the bed, one knee braced against the mattress. He shoved her gown up as her hands slid into the panties he wore, and then finally she was pulling them down his hips. Meliodas choked as the fabric dragged down his body, his mouth pressed on her neck as he shook, his eyes rolling a bit when his aching body sprung free.

There was just a moment of her hand sliding down the length of him before he pressed forward, entering her with a deep groan of satisfaction. Elizabeth reached behind him, pulling at his hips, her fingers sliding the fabric down his backside as she grabbed his flesh and urged him closer, deeper. She held him like this, the lace panties caught around his thighs, as he began to drive into her, neither of them able to do anything other than cling to the other and moan as he drove them both to the inevitable.

She was twisting, crying out sharply, her leg sliding up around his side. Elizabeth pulsed around him, and the sudden flush of wet heat sent him over his own edge, pleasure shooting from the base of his skull to the tip buried inside of her body. Meliodas sank into her and panted as wave after wave hit, the contractions deep inside of him, feeling the warmth as he spilled inside of her.

Catching his breath finally, Meliodas eased off of her, standing on shaky legs. He reached to pull off the lace finally but Elizabeth looked at him with wide eyes, her own chest heaving up and down with labored breathing. "What are you doing?" she laughed. "Keep those on!"

"You can't be serious," he answered, a mixture of amusement and confusion.

Elizabeth leaned up on her elbows. "I'm dead serious," she smiled. "You can't tell me that wasn't good."

He considered, tilting his head to the side. Wearing the panties had certainly gotten to Elizabeth, which in turn had benefited him immensely. Meliodas smirked as he watched her rub her thighs together. His body, now halfway deflated, twitched unexpectedly. "I'll make you a deal," he said, looking at her with hooded eyes. "I'll keep these on tonight, but you have to show me what you did right before lunch."

Elizabeth frowned. "What I did? What do you—ohhh, wait, how do you know about that?"

She was absolutely scarlet, and he laughed. "You were much calmer at lunch than you had been squirming in that meeting all morning and bolting whenever I got close to you." With a crooked smile he climbed up on the bed, and Elizabeth returned his grin with a laugh, sliding back on the pillows. Her eyes never left his as she spread her legs, and Meliodas sat up on his knees, pulling the lace back in place as his body responded to the show he was about to receive. As her hand moved between her thighs, he thought, I love wearing panties.