Say my Name-rewrite

Maya Harper

Maya was never one to seek attention or thrill; she found solace in the background, content with her quiet presence. Power held no allure for her. As a tomboy, her wardrobe leaned towards jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, and well-worn chucks, often in black, which she humorously claimed matched her soul, though those who knew her understood otherwise.

On Sundays, she bonded with her step-father over football and car maintenance, lessons in self-reliance that contrasted sharply with her relationship with her biological father, who was more of a sperm donor than a parental figure.

At the age of 5, Maya's parents divorced, a pivotal event that, in hindsight, was a blessing. The memories of their tumultuous arguments and the stress-induced nosebleeds she endured at such a tender age lingered, haunting her despite her efforts to suppress them. The image of her father striding down the hallway, belt in hand, as a consequence for breaking a glass, remained etched in her mind.

Her life took a positive turn when her mother met her step-father when Maya was 7. From that moment on, he embraced her as his own, offering a stark contrast to her biological father. His kindness, warmth, love, and generosity shaped Maya's character and paved the way for who she is today.

His passing shattered her world, her.... essence. He was the sole figure in her life who exemplified unconditional love and taught her the essence of how a woman should be cherished. His fierce love for Maya's mother was a beacon of hope, especially considering her mother's prior experiences with men who were meant to love and protect her but only brought pain. He was the one who revived her mother's spirit from its broken state.

The day Maya graduated from college marked a pinnacle of joy in her life. Following in her step-father's footsteps, she pursued a degree in Psychology. Witnessing his pride on that day was unforgettable, yet his absence cast a shadow over the coming years of celebrations, as he passed away before witnessing the trajectory of her life.

By the age of 28, she had risen to prominence as one of New York's foremost forensic psychologists. From a young age, she harbored a fascination with serial killers such as Kemper, Dahmer, and Ramirez, delving into their backgrounds and crimes in a quest to comprehend the motives behind their heinous acts.

Immersed in her profession, her belief in romance and faith in humanity waned. Witnessing the devastation and cruelty humans inflicted upon each other on a daily basis eroded her faith in love. Hearing her girlfriends recount their dating horror stories served as a stark reminder of the perils of relationships, further deterring her from pursuing them. Besides, she found solace and satisfaction in the company of her own mind and a few carefully chosen toys, believing it to be the...preferable path for her.

Alone.

Following the New York attack, Maya was enlisted by S.H.I.E.L.D. Her expertise in Norse Mythology, Vikings Studies was her minor in college, caught their attention, especially since the adversary they sought was a god—a cunning trickster wielding immense power for chaos and deception. Eager to embark on this new journey, Maya eagerly awaited her assignment.

The night preceding her departure for the Avengers compound was fraught with nervous anticipation. Packing her bags with uncertainty about the duration of her stay, she meticulously tidied her modest apartment before taking a shower and attempting to rest. However, her mind raced with doubts, questioning her ability to rise to the challenge ahead.

This case presented an unprecedented challenge for Maya, accustomed as she was to dealing with human subjects. Gods introduced an entirely different dimension to her work, stirring up a storm of uncertainty in her mind.

Seeking solace, she turned to her nightstand and retrieved her favorite companion—a sleek, red Rose. This little toy had provided her with more satisfaction than any man ever had, and it didn't demand cuddles or sandwiches afterward.

For Maya, there is no greater pleasure than the sensation of lying down on a freshly made bed, feeling the cool, clean sheets against her bare legs as they rub against the soft fabric. She lets her hands wander freely across her body, savoring the feeling of her own skin against her fingertips. Starting at her chest, she traces her fingers gently across her collarbone, feeling the slight tremble that runs through her body as she touches herself.

Moving downwards, she lets her hands glide over her stomach, feeling the muscles tense and relax underneath her fingertips. She can feel the warmth radiating from her skin, and she takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her own body. She loves the way she smells - a delicate mix of orchids and black current, with just a hint of something darker and more alluring lurking underneath.

'Leather....?' She thought for a moment as she takes in the scent. 'No. That isn't you'. She sighs and shakes it off.

As she continues to explore her body with her hands, she feels a sudden shiver of anticipation run down her spine. She knows what she wants, what she needs, and she reaches for her little rose, her trusty vibrator that never fails to bring her to the edge. With a quick flick of her wrist, she turns it on to the perfect speed, the one that never fails to make her heart race and her breath catch in her throat.

Placing the toy against her eager flesh, she feels herself growing slick with desire as the vibrations send waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Goosebumps break out across her skin, and she closes her eyes, losing herself in the sensation. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest, and she bites her lip, fighting back a moan as she loses herself in the feeling, her mind drifting to a place of pure pleasure.

Suddenly, she hears a whisper in her ear. A sultry, velvet voice that sends shivers down her spine.

'Who said you could touch yourself?'

The voice is low and commanding, and she feels a thrill of excitement run through her veins. She opens her eyes, but there's no one there. She looks around her empty room, but she can't shake the feeling that she's not alone. The smell of leather invading her senses, and she feels a presence in the room with her. She tells herself that it's just her imagination, that she's been reading too much dark romance lately, but she can't ignore the feeling that she's being watched.

'So eager and ready... mmm I can smell you princess,' the voice whispers again, a guttural groan that sounds almost primal.

She feels his breath on her neck, and she swears she can smell his skin. But when she looks around, there's no one there. She starts to panic, but at the same time, she feels a thrill of excitement run through her. She's never felt anything like this before, this mixture of fear and desire, and she can't help but be drawn to it.

'Fuck, I must be losing my mind,' she murmurs to herself in the dark, but again,  she can't shake the feeling that she's not the only one there. She lies back down, her mind wandering as the vibrations take over, building her release quickly. She feels out of control, like she's on the edge of something big, and she can't wait to see where it takes her.

Suddenly, she hears another whisper, that commanding voice that says, 'Slow down, love.... I want to enjoy this show.'

She tries to resist, but the voice is too strong. She slows down, her body trembling with anticipation.

Images start flashing in her mind, invading her thoughts. She sees a hand around her throat, fingers that aren't hers dipping inside her. She feels lips kissing down her skin, and she can't see his face, but she knows he has jet black hair that she just wants to entangle her fingers in. She sees his hands, long fingers with veins popping down his forearms as he runs his hand down her breasts, to her stomach. His knee pushing its way between her legs, forcing them open. He spreads both of her legs open, and leans down between her thighs. All she can see are his eyes looking up at her. She feels his breath on her skin, causing her to shudder. She wants, no... needs, his mouth on her, and he knows it. She starts to squirm and whimper as he says, 'Now.... BEG.'