Unraveled. Breathless. Wanting.
Glinda had never seen Elphaba like this before.
Unraveled. Breathless. Wanting.
And it was because of her.
It was intoxicating—the way Elphaba’s golden eyes had darkened, the way her lips were kiss-swollen, the way she was hovering above her, close enough that Glinda could feel the heat radiating off her skin.
"You don’t understand what this means to me," Elphaba had whispered.
But Glinda did.
And she wasn’t going to let her run from it anymore.
With slow, deliberate intent, Glinda arched beneath her, letting her hands slide from Elphaba’s hair down to the collar of her blouse, where her fingers toyed with the buttons.
"Then stop thinking so much," she murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of Elphaba’s mouth, then lower, her lips grazing green skin, trailing a slow path down the curve of her jaw.
Elphaba shuddered.
Her hands dug into the sheets on either side of Glinda’s head, her control hanging by a thread.
"Glinda," she warned, voice hoarse, barely holding together.
Glinda smirked.
"What is it, Elphie?" she purred, her breath hot against Elphaba’s throat. "Tell me to stop."
Silence.
Glinda’s fingers moved lower, brushing the top button of Elphaba’s blouse—pausing, waiting.
Still, Elphaba said nothing.
Instead, she exhaled sharply, almost shaking, and when Glinda glanced up, she saw it—
the surrender.
Slowly, carefully, Glinda undid the first button.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Elphaba let her.
Her breathing was uneven now, chest rising and falling in shallow gasps as Glinda’s fingers dragged down her sternum, reverent, careful, taking her time.
"I hate you," Elphaba muttered, but her voice wavered, betraying her.
Glinda laughed softly, tilting her head. "Oh, darling, you really don’t."
And then, with deliberate slowness, she pushed the fabric off Elphaba’s shoulders, baring more of that stunning, forbidden green.
Elphaba sucked in a breath—but she didn’t stop her.
And that was all the permission Glinda needed.
She flipped them, moving over Elphaba this time, pinning her down, straddling her waist as she pressed her lips hot and insistent against the soft skin of Elphaba’s collarbone.
Elphaba groaned, gripping Glinda’s thighs as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded.
"You drive me insane," she rasped, tilting her head back as Glinda took her time, worshiping every inch she uncovered.
"I know," Glinda whispered smugly, her lips dragging lower, lower, her hands mapping out every tense muscle, every shiver, every silent plea.
And then Elphaba—Elphaba—moaned.
Low, quiet, almost as if she hated that she’d made the sound at all.
Glinda felt it like a lightning strike.
She grinned against her skin.
"Oh, you like that, don’t you?" she murmured, biting down just enough to leave a mark.
Elphaba gasped, gripping the sheets so tightly her knuckles went white.
And that—that—was the moment Glinda knew.
Knew she had won.
Knew that Elphaba Thropp, the girl who fought against everything, who refused to let herself be vulnerable, who denied herself every happiness, was finally, finally letting go.
"Glinda," Elphaba panted, her fingers digging into Glinda’s hips.
"Mmm?" Glinda hummed against her skin, not stopping, never stopping.
"If you don’t stop teasing me, I swear to Oz, I will—"
But before she could finish, Glinda silenced her the only way she knew how.
With her mouth.
And this time, when Elphaba kissed back, it was pure fire.