I don't own anything MCU!

Gemma kicked off her heels with a relieved sigh as she slammed the door shut behind her. God, those fucking shoes. She glared at the shiny, black patent shoes- they were the worst part of every day, and the only thing she didn't absolutely love about her job at the museum.

At first, she'd been enamored by the idea of dressing up for work. It was so grown up and glamorous, especially after the years she'd spent slogging away in the back corners of libraries dressed in jeans and t-shirts But approximately three hours into her first day, three hours of walking back and forth across the glossy marble floors, she absolutely hated it. Mostly because she was terrified of skidding across the oh, so slippery white floors and landing on her ass, but also because her feet hurt like a bitch by the end of the day.

But still, every morning, she woke up, got dressed in some ridiculously formal skirt or pantsuit, slung on a pair of three-inch heels and said a quick prayer that she wouldn't trip or faceplant until she got home. So far, praying was working like a charm.

It also helped that the heels and outfits, no matter how uncomfortable they were, made her feel confident and sexy as hell. Say what you want about heels being a male invention to make a woman's butt look better, it was true and she loved it.

She dropped her bag on the counter and headed straight for the bottles lined up on her bar-cart. The only thing she needed now was a stiff drink and a hot shower to loosen up her muscles. She didn't even want to think about unpacking those final few boxes or figuring out dinner until she was good and tipsy. The pricey bottle of rye was calling to her- Gemma could almost hear it's hypnotizing voice as she uncapped it and inhaled deeply. The deep butterscotch undertone had her pouring with a generous hand. She wasn't usually a whiskey kind of girl, but after a week like this, she needed something strong enough to knock her over. And if the drink was strong enough to dull her achy feet, even better.

The smoky, silky burn of the first sip left her warmed and ready for more. She'd always thought of good alcohol like amazing sex- it left you weak and shaky, but always, always wanting more. Speaking of amazing sex, it'd been way too long since she had some. Shit, at this point she'd settle for 30 seconds of jack-rabbiting with a guy who didn't know where the clit was.

She rolled her eyes thinking of the last few men who'd hit on her at work. Always the weirdly over-dressed kind who said shit like, "I treat my woman like a queen." They made her skin crawl.

Even worse were the guys who accosted her in the metro where she couldn't run away. She silently reminded herself to pick up some pepper spray, just in case. Better safe than sorry and all that.

Why was it never a hot, normal guy? Maybe someone like Bucky, "I'm your neighbor" Barnes. Oh yeah, she knew his last name now. And his best friends' names, Steve and Natasha. She also knew the fact that all three (especially Natasha) were hot as hell and had been friends since they were children. The only thing she didn't know yet was whether her hot new neighbor was straight. And wasn't that the most tragic fucking thing in the world?

Another deep sip, this one went down a bit more easily, and she headed to her bathroom with the bottle in one hand and glass in the other. She was still deciding how drunk she wanted to get, and after all, Friday nights were supposed to be fun. Right?

A few moments later, Gemma's clothes were strewn across her bed and she stood under the pounding spray of the shower, letting the heat relax her tense muscles. It was times like this that she was glad she'd invested in that high-pressure showerhead. Well, times like this and the few times she'd let the pulsing spray hit her right where she needed it most. God, she'd never forget that friend in college who taught her the wonders of showerheads. In fact, she detached the head from the wall and let the stream of water run down her throat, she could use some of that good showerhead attention right now.

She let the spray beat against her belly and moaned as the water ran down her legs. The steam fogging up the bathroom went straight to her head, making her dizzy with anticipation. She knew part of it was from the alcohol, the rest was from need. Just as she directed the water where she needed it most, strange noise startled her out of her haze- a thump? It sounded like a book had fallen off a table.

There it was again! Her heartbeat sped up, was it from inside her apartment?

It wasn't a thump. She narrowed her eyes as she heard the sound again. It sounded more like... a slap? Where was it coming from? She stuck her head out, pressing the shower curtain close to the wall to keep the steam from escaping. The window in her bathroom was closed- and she definitely hadn't opened the window in her bedroom. It wasn't from outside.

It sounded like it was coming from- she glanced around the bathroom- was it coming from the vent? She made a face and turned away- if that sound was from a mousetrap, she didn't want to know about it.

She leaned back against the shower wall and tried to get back to the shower head but the weird noises had taken all the fun out of it. Sighing, she turned off the water and stood in the shower, shivering slightly without the hot spray. Tugging a towel around her body, she stepped out and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet to slather her legs in lotion.

She made a face as she stood and looked up at the vent above her. It didn't sound like the noises had been coming from up there. She shuddered and stepped back just in case. It didn't sound like it was coming from the vents but she'd be damned if she stood there waiting for a mouse's decapitated head to roll out of the vent and land on her.

But now she was curious.

Maybe someone was renovating. Maybe it was hot Bucky next door. He'd be a sight for sore eyes, shirtless, hammering away at some cabinet. What she wouldn't give for him to hammer away at her instead. She chewed her lip and let herself get lost in the ridiculous fantasy.

He'd be shirtless and sweaty, hammering away at some wall, details weren't important here. And somehow she'd be in a towel and pair of heels. Comfortable stripper heels. Obviously, her hair and makeup would be perfect. He would hear her behind him and stand up. God, he'd be hot as hell. He'd come over to her and she would drop the towel as he pressed her to the wall.

She sat on the edge of her bed and shook her hair out.

That's when she'd say something witty like, "You trying to get me all dirty again?"

He'd drop to his knees with a smirk, palms stroking up her legs and say, "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be filthy."

Then he'd hitch one leg over his shoulder and press his-

Wait. That sound. There it was again. Another one! And was that a moan? She snapped out of her fantasy at the sound of a long, drawn-out wail.

Her eyes widened as she held her breath and listened. Oh yeah, that was definitely a woman. And she was loud. Gemma bit her lip to stifle her gasp as she unfolded a second towel to dry her hair.

Perverse curiosity stopped her from playing music on her phone to block out the sound. Whoever she was, that woman was lucky.

Gemma rolled her eyes, had it really been so long that she was now jealous of a stranger for having good sex?

Yes, it absolutely had been that long.

"Oh, Bucky!"

Gemma froze when she heard the scream. Bucky? Holy shit. She'd been listening to Hot Bucky From Next Door. She's been listening to him screw the brains out of some nameless, very lucky woman. By the sounds of it, he was doing a stellar job too.

The thought of it turned her on. She'd never been a voyeur or anything like that, but hey, they interrupted her little fantasy so it was only fair to "borrow" from them, right?

And plus, it was hot as hell to know that Bucky was so talented in bed. Well, either that or this woman was putting on a hell of a show and should add "trained actor" to her resume.

"Yes! Daddy," Another loud slap. Jesus Fucking Christ. He was kinky.

She crawled up her bed and pressed her ear to the wall above the headboard. Their bedrooms must have been back to back because she could feel the vibrations as his bed started thumping against the wall.

And even better, she could hear his voice now.

"I love how wet you get for me."

His low grown sent a chill through her body.

"Love to feel that tight little cunt around my cock."

The mystery woman gasped and pleaded nonsensical words in response. Gemma, in turn, pressed closer to the wall and snuck one quiet hand under her towel. Her heart pounded to the beat of the bed slamming into the wall.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He may have been talking to his girl on the other side of the wall, but she couldn't' help but feel that he was right there, right next to her. Whispering the filthy words in her ear. She prayed that he wouldn't stop.

She moaned quietly, muffling the sound with her fist as her fingers glided through wetness.

"Harder, baby. Please, fuck me harder."

If Gemma were in her position, she'd be begging for the same thing. Her fingers worked faster, circling and teasing. Just a little more. She just needed to hear his voice again.

"Fuck! Bucky, I can't. I can't take it- Oh!"

"You're gonna take everything I give you."

Gemma unconsciously ground her hips against her hand. Yeah, she'd take everything he gave her.

"You're gonna be a good girl for me, aren't you?" His words were labored and rough. Gemma held her breath and nodded desperately as if he could see her.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

Another loud slap, the loudest one yet.

"Yes, daddy!" The woman let out a wild cry at the same time as Gemma's shuddering gasp.

Fucking hell, the man just made them both cum at the same time.

Without warning, his pace picked up, evenly spaced thumps of the bed because jagged, unsteady and short.

Then, he let out a loud groan as if he just finished running a fucking marathon. The sound vibrated into her bones and she knew she'd never forgotten it.

"Fucking amazing." Yes, she smirked as she collapsed back into her bed. She couldn't help but agree with his assessment.

All Gemma could hear for a few seconds was harsh breaths then rustling sheets. Suddenly, laughter, from both of them. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed in bed with a man. All the guys she'd ever dated had always been so serious in bed, working into her like they were trying to check off a box.

Went down on my girl for 2 minutes, check.

Fucked my girl for 12 minutes tonight, check.

Made my girl cum, check (as far as he knew).

Gemma was struck with the desire for laughter, spontaneity and a little dirty in bed now. Unfortunately, all she'd had was her hand and Bucky's voice, but that did the trick today.