He stutters over an epithet and can't muster up any more than that to warn her. It's a combination of factors. The squeeze of her legs around him, gripping like a vice. The dig of her fingernails, not hard enough to break skin but enough to make him grit his teeth and grunt roughly.

There's no thinking about what's happened to bring them to this point or what will happen afterward. It's just this second - now, now, now - and Wanda - and he groans her name helplessly as he comes in a few more thrusts, riding through it despite the trembling of his body, his synapses firing at sharpshooter speed.