Gadge Week was organized by finnickodone in tumblr. You can write drbbles or edit gifsets and pictures using the prompt/s of the day.

Disclaimer: I do not own THG.

Day 1 - Sneaking/Snare

Coming out of the closet...

She had it all planned out. He would come in his room and she'd be on the bed, his photos in hand. She would deliver her terms in a sexy and threatening way. He would be so shock he'd agree on the spot.

Getting inside of his apartment was quite an easy task. He was so predictable, he had a spare key under the empty plant pot on the side of his door. Did he buy the pot for the sole purpose of hiding a spare key under it? He should at least put an actual plant in it.

His apartment was bare, there were only the essentials; table, couch, television, chairs,…that's about it. It was clear a bachelor was living there. She shook her head at the unremarkable living room and went straight to the bedroom. It was just as unremarkable. But at least, it was clean. There was a bed, a drawer, a desk, a chair and there's a big mirror on the wall, just on the other side of the bed. It was a sliding door for the closet. She didn't believe it when she was told that he had that thing right beside the bed. Did he like looking at himself or something?

It was probably 'something'.

When she heard him came inside his apartment, she quickly jumped on the bed. Glancing at the mirror to see how she looked lying there and made sure she didn't look funny (not bad, it was useful after all). But then his voice was now accompanied with that of a female one. It became louder and louder and when she heard a feminine moan, she bolted to the closet and quickly shut it.

This was bad.

She heard doors opening and closing.

Then feminine moans and pants filled her ears. She suppressed a groan. She didn't want to hear it happening. She felt like a pervert, listening in to a very intimate situation. But it's not like she had a choice, she was trapped. Granted, it was her freakin' fault but still…

A loud bump snapped her out of her thoughts.

'They are doing it against the closet!' she thought, 'Oh goodness, kill me now!'

She blindly grabbed a garment and buried her face in it, as if doing that would take away all the embarrassment she felt in that very moment.

This felt so wrong. She should be the one on the bed, making sexy threats.

"No," she muttered, "Don't think like that." She then noticed the silence. They're done already? That was fast! She pressed her ear to the door, but said door suddenly disappeared.

Madge Undersee stumbled out of the closet and into the arms of Gale Hawthorne.

Her ears now pressed to a naked chest, she could hear his heart beating and his deep voice saying, "Gotcha!"

She slowly looked up and found him smirking. Her eyes narrowed and craned her neck to see if the girl was still there but found no one.

"That was Johanna, by the way," he said, his hands slid to her waist.

"Johanna?" she almost growled the name.

"What? You thought I'm stupid enough to let anyone took half naked pictures of myself? Did you also think you could sneak in to my apartment that easily?" he scoffed, "Please, give me some credit, I don't actually hide a spare key under an empty plant pot. That's her idea."

"What the heck are you talking about, Hawthorne?"

"This is a setup, Undersee, I'm not good at setting a trap for nothing," he said, grinning, "Obviously."

When Johanna suggested blackmailing him into giving her private shooting lesson, she knew it was too good to be true when she was presented sexy pictures of him. Madge couldn't believe she had been played. She pushed his hands away.

"Come on, princess," he said in a serious voice, "We need to do something about this problem of ours."

"We don't have a problem!"

"Keep telling that to yourself but we both know this tension between us is so thick, people around us are getting suffocated," he leaned, his face mere inches away from hers, "I suggest we do something about it."

Without waiting for her reply, he kissed her. But she was still mad, so she stupidly pushed him away. Then she noticed the garment in her hand, the one she buried her face into. She immediately let go of it.

"Is that – "

"Don't ask," she begged, face scarlet, "It was in your closet, I didn't know."

"Okay," he said, uncertain but with a grin on his face. Then there's silence again. The air between them was charged with sexual tension.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to kiss me, again?" she said, breathless, "I'm not angry anymore."

With another grin, Gale obliged.

What do you think?