#sabes

Sabretooth is frustrated and furious when Moxie, the teenager that Magneto assigned him to mentor and guard, is revealed to be working at a strip club. Moxie Tanaka is the youngest member of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. She's a mutant with the power to transfer into a red fox at will.

Sabretooth interrogates Avalanche and Pyro, members of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. Sabretooth had found Moxie's bedroom empty past midnight, and is determined to find out where she went.

Pyro shuffled his feet, glancing at Avalanche before responding, "I mean, I guess she might've gone to the-"

Avalanche cut him off, clapping a hand over Pyro's mouth. "Shut up!" he hissed warningly. "Moxie would kick your ass so hard if you told..."

Sabretooth's eyes narrowed, and his tail swished ominously. "Funny. Because if you don't tell, you have me to worry about."

The boys looked at him, clearly determining who was scarier, Sabretooth or Moxie.

Sabretooth won.

"She... She got a job, okay?" Pyro mumbled. "It's not a big deal or anything..." His blush, and the way he avoided Sabretooth's eyes, suggested otherwise.

Sabretooth's expression darkened. "A job? What kind of job?"

The boys exchanged another look.

"Okay, so, don't be mad," Avalanche began cautiously. "It's gonna sound kind of bad, but if you really look at it, she's almost an adult, and it's probably safe, so just-"

"Out with it," Sabretooth barked, his patience wearing thin.

Avalanche cringed, closing his eyes tight as though unable to look at Sabretooth when he spilled the beans. "It's at this...uh, club. Nearby."

"What kind of club?" Sabretooth's voice was dangerously calm.

Avalanche squirmed under the weight of the older mutant's stare. "It's...it's like a dance club," he began, his voice tentative.

"A dance club," Sabretooth repeated, his tone deceptively mild.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Pyro muttered, shooting Avalanche an irritated glance. "It's a strip club, okay?"

The tension in the room skyrocketed as Sabretooth's eyes bulged and his fur bristled. "You're telling me she's working at a fucking strip club?!"

"Okay, well," Avalanche said, trying futilely to spin the conversation away from disaster. "When you put it like that, it sounds kinda bad, but-"

"Kinda bad?" Sabretooth's voice was a low rumble, the calmness gone. "Do you have any idea what kind of place that is for a young mutant girl like Moxie?"

"It's really not that bad!" Avalanche protested, his voice a squeak. "She's almost eighteen, and... And it's just a little club..."

Sabretooth's fists clenched, his claws extending slightly, the sound of metal scraping against metal echoing through the room. "My ward is dancing with her tits out for some old fucking perverts, and you think it's 'not that bad'?" he roared.

"Look, she's okay," Avalanche tried again, his voice shaking. "She just... She likes it, okay? She said it's fun."

Sabretooth's expression was a storm of rage, but his voice remained eerily calm. "What's the club called?" he demanded, his eyes boring into the two trembling teens.

"The Purring Panther," Pyro squeaked out, his eyes wide with terror. "But it's totally cool, man. They treat her like a queen there. It's just a job."

Without another word to the boys, Sabretooth turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Pyro and Avalanche to exchange worried glances. They knew better than to get in his way when he was like this... But if things were brewing for a confrontation between Sabretooth and Moxie, the results were sure to be messy.

Sabretooth stopped by his room only long enough to grab his coat and keys, and to Google the address for the Purring Panther. His heart hammered in his chest like a drumline as he thought about Moxie up there, doing... what they had said she was doing. It didn't matter how much she liked it or how much she felt in control, he knew the type of men that frequented those kinds of places, and none of them had the right to see his girl like that.

As he stepped outside the base, the cool night air hit him like a slap in the face, a stark contrast to the hot fury burning inside. He climbed into his beat-up old car, the engine roaring to life as he peeled out onto the street. The drive was a blur of neon lights and dark alleys, his mind racing with thoughts of what he might find at the club.

When he finally arrived at the Purring Panther, the neon sign flickered in the dark like a beacon of sleaze. He could feel the thump of bass from the music inside vibrating through the walls, and he felt sick. Moxie, his little Moxie, in there... He took a moment to compose himself, straightening his coat and smoothing his fur, before striding towards the door.

The bouncer at the door looked at him with a mix of confusion and amusement at his furry form, but the flash of his eyes and the set of his jaw made it clear that this wasn't a man to be trifled with. He nodded, allowing Sabretooth to pass without a word.

Sabretooth searches the club for Moxie. He finally finds her performing for a large group of men. The men watch, entranced, as she dances and strips down to nothing for them, looking lovely and delicate. Sabretooth feels furious with her for her bad choices. He feels both possessive and protective over the girl he was assigned to protect. The same girl he'd grown fond of, over the months he'd spent training her.

"Is anyone interested in a private dance?" Moxie asked, her wide gold eyes so sweet and alluring.

The men all clamored for her attention, throwing more money onto the stage like it was confetti. But Sabretooth, at well over seven feet tall, came front and center. "Me," he growled, his voice cutting through the din of the club.

Moxie froze at the sight of him, her expression frozen in shock, then panic. In a second, she'd gone from a graceful, confident figure to the teenage girl she really was. A girl who knew she was in big trouble.

"Shit," she muttered, her eyes flicking nervously over the crowd. "Shit." She crossed her arms self-consciously over her naked chest, dropping off the stage and hurrying towards him, where she grabbed her mentor's arm. "What are you doing here?!" she hissed, trying to pull him away.

"What am I doing here?" he echoed incredulously. "Mox, what the fuck!"

She winced as his raised voice drew curious glances from the crowd. "Hush!" she shushed him, no doubt stressing over what such an encounter would do to her image as a seductive, dominating fantasy for these men. "You have to leave. You can't... Oh, my God." She seemed to realize just how naked she was before the eyes of Sabretooth, the man she so respected and admired. Her face burned.

Sabretooth's gold eyes flashed. "You're damn right I'm leaving," he snapped. "And you're coming with me."

"What! No!" Moxie growled, dragging him to a corner where they at least had the illusion of privacy. "I'm at work, Victor. You can't be here- go home!"

"The hell I can't," he countered, his voice low and dangerous. "You're a member of the Brotherhood, Moxie, not some cheap whore for some desperate, pathetic humans." Yanking off his outer shirt, he draped it over her nearly naked form. It was big enough on her small body that she was covered to the tops of her thighs.

Then, without further ado, he towed her towards the exit, ignoring her struggles and protests as he did so.

It wasn't until they were outside in the chill air, hidden in the semi privacy of an alley behind the club, that he rounded on the girl. "What the fuck were you doing?!"

Moxie crossed her arms and scowled, stubborn as always. "Dancing, obviously."

Victor growled, his patience wearing thin. "That's not what's happening, and you know it." He stepped closer, his fur bristling. "You're a soldier, a warrior, not a goddamn whore!" He slammed a fist against the wall, his eyes piercing hers.

Moxie jumped, her gold eyes widening, alarmed by his aggression and harsh words. "Victor..." She breathed. Her tail twitched anxiously.

"What, you think you're going to make a difference for our kind by flaunting your ass for the enemy?" He barked, his rage palpable.

She said nothing, only looked at him with those big, gold eyes, clearly nervous. But there was something else in there, too. Something that told him she wasn't just scared of his anger, she was hurt by his words.

Sabretooth took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside him. He knew he was being harsh, but he couldn't help it. "Look," he said, his voice softer, though no less firm. "You're better than this, Mox. You're a member of the Brotherhood, you're supposed to be fighting for our rights, not taking your clothes off for human perverts."

Moxie looked down, her cheeks flushing a darker shade of red. "I know," she murmured. "But it's just a job, Victor. It's not like I'm sleeping with anyone, or even letting anyone touch me. I'm just... dancing."

Oh? Victor felt his jaw tighten. "Fine," he said curtly. "Go ahead, then." He gripped the thong she wore. "Panties off. Show me your cunt."

Moxie froze, her eyes huge as she stumbled away from him. "What?!" She had to have misheard him. The man had been taking care of her since she was... What, six, seven years old? He was practically a father to her! "Victor, no..."

But he was unmoved. "If you're going to act like a whore, I'm going to treat you like one," he said, his voice cold. "You want to show your cunt to all these strangers, show it to me."

"I don't want to!" Moxie's voice trembled as she stumbled backward, her eyes wide with shock and fear. She tried to turn the tides- "Would you be fine with showing me your dick?!"

Sabretooth stopped in his tracks, his expression unreadable for a moment before a smug smile twisted his lips. "You wanna see it?"

"No!" Moxie's voice was a squeak as she took a hasty step back. She hadn't expected him to call her bluff. "That's not what I meant!"

Ignoring her frantic attempts to backpedal, Sabretooth unzipped his pants, his cock springing free.

Moxie hadn't actually wanted her mentor to expose himself, and felt deeply uncomfortable now that he had. "Victor, I don't want to see your dick!" she protested, looking anywhere but at him. "Put it away!"

But he didn't. Instead, he stepped closer, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the alley. "You're the one that brought it up, Mox," he said, his voice a low purr that sent chills down her spine. "But if it makes you feel better, I'm not asking for a show. I just want to make sure you're not lying to me." He reached out and tugged the string of her thong.

"Stop it!" Moxie shoved his hand off of herself. "And what do you mean, you're making sure I'm not lying? Lying about what?!"

Sabretooth leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. "You expect me to believe that you're up there, all hot and bothered, and none of these animals are touching you? That's a lie, Moxie."

Moxie froze, disgusted by his implications. "I don't have to prove anything to you. I don't belong to you- you have no right to order me around!"

Sabretooth stepped closer, his teeth bared. "You're on my watch, girl," he snarled. "You don't get to make these kinds of choices without my say-so. And definitely not ones that compromise the Brotherhood."

Moxie's tail lashed angrily. "Fine, I'll quit working here. But I refuse to take my clothes off for you. There's no reason for me to do that, and you have no right to ask."

Sabretooth considered. She'd agreed to quit, so what would forcing the issue achieve? Sure, her stubborn defiance was irritating, but so long as he got her safely back to the Brotherhood base, the immediate threat was neutralized. "Fine," he grunted, tucking himself back in and zipping up.

Moxie pushed her way out from under Victor's arm and stalked towards the club's parking lot without another word. She scanned the rows of vehicles, finally glimpsing his car. She stalked towards it, her ankles wobbling precariously in the stiletto heels she wore. When she stumbled and nearly fell on the uneven pavement, she swore, loud and furious.

Victor, following after her, watched as she bent to unbuckle her heels and slide them off her feet. Then, clearly furious at him, at the entire situation, she threw both shoes as hard as she could, each hitting the door of the club with a loud thud. Then she turned back to his car, waiting, barefoot, for him to unlock the vehicle.

When he opened the passenger door for her, she climbed in and sat, glowering at the space just beyond Victor's shoulder. She was unwilling to speak to him. Unwilling to even look at him. The fury radiating off of her was palpable.

Sabretooth took a moment to gather himself before he climbed into the driver's seat, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. The silence was thick and oppressive, the throb of the music from the club fading into the background as they drove away.

The tension in the car was electric, the air charged with Moxie's anger and his own frustration. He glanced over at her, taking in her slumped posture and tightly crossed arms, her bare legs drawn up under the shirt that barely covered her. He knew he'd offended, maybe even scared her with his outburst. And, okay, exposing his penis was definitely going way too far. His temper had gotten the better of him.

But, fuck, she had no idea what kind of shit could happen in places like that. He'd seen it all, the horrors that could befall a young, beautiful girl. The way men could be, especially when they thought they had power over a mutant girl who, frankly, wasn't all that physically skilled. She could hold her own in a fair sparring session, sure, but she'd never faced a real fight. She didn't have his strength, his claws, his ferocity.

And he'd be lying if he said he wasn't also pissed because, fuck, she was his. His to protect, his to train, his to...

He shoved the thoughts away, focusing on the road ahead. Moxie was a teenager. He was practically her guardian- he'd raised her since she was seven years old, for Christ's sake. He had no right to think of her in that way.

Moxie, still fuming, remained silent. Her eyes were glued to the side window, the neon lights of the city reflecting off her tear-stained cheeks. She felt so... humiliated. Betrayed, almost. He'd seen her at her most vulnerable, and she had no doubt that he was judging her, thinking she was some kind of slut.

Sabretooth's eyes darted to her in the rearview mirror, the car's interior lights casting shadows across her face. He saw the silent tears and the tremble in her chin, and his anger morphed into something else entirely. Regret, maybe.

"Baby," he said, his voice softer than it had been. And, when that only made her back stiffen, "Little shadow." It had been her childhood nickname, murmured in amusement by other Brotherhood members as they watched the tiny feral child who'd followed him everywhere. It had been his way of teasing affection from her. And, apparently, it still worked.

Her eyes snapped to his in the mirror, her breath hitching. "What?" she spat out, voice thick with unshed tears and anger.

"Look, I'm sorry," he began gruffly. "But you can't just go around taking jobs like that without talking to me. I'm supposed to be watching out for you."

Moxie growled and didn't answer, once again turning to glower out the window. Victor felt a spike of irritation, but he tried to tamp it down. One extreme outburst was more than enough for the night. He cleared his throat, hesitated, then reached, gently touching the side of her face, his rough thumb brushing against the silk of her cheek. She flinched, but didn't pull away, and he took that as a sign to continue.

Sometimes, physical touch worked better for mutants like Sabretooth and Moxie than words ever could. They were both classified as feral type mutants, more animalistic than human, and it was a part of their nature to communicate through touch. When Moxie had first come to the Brotherhood, she had been wild, untouchable, a creature of instinct and survival. But over the years, with his gentle coaxing and firm guidance, she had learned to tolerate, then crave, the physical connection that bonded her to him.

So when he reached out now, his hand large and warm against the coolness of her bare skin, she didn't pull away immediately. Instead, she let out a shaky breath, her tail swishing back and forth in agitation. She felt the warmth of his hand, the comforting pressure as he traced a line from her cheekbone to her jaw, and something inside her began to unclench.

"Baby," Sabretooth murmured, and was relieved when Moxie leaned slightly into his hand. She still wasn't speaking, but she wasn't fighting him either. He could feel the tension slowly draining out of her body, and his own shoulders dropped slightly.

He started to rub circles into her neck, his thumb pressing gently into the tense muscles. Her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a soft sigh. His other hand came up to cradle her face, his thumbs wiping away the remnants of her tears. Maybe it wasn't fair to use touch to manipulate her, but it was the most effective way he had to get through to her.

So, fine. He pulled onto the shoulder of the road and ran both palms up the back of her shirt, feeling the ridges of her spine and shoulder blades. The rusty little purr rising from her throat told him she was calming down, and he felt his own anger start to ease. "Look at me, Mox," he whispered, his voice gruff but gentle.

Her eyes met his in the mirror, and he saw the turmoil swirling in those gold depths. She was his little fox, his pupil, and he'd hurt her. But she was also his responsibility, and he'd be damned if he'd let her throw her life away.

"I'm not trying to control you, Mox," he murmured, his thumb making slow, soothing circles on her neck. "But you can't just... do something like this without telling me."

Moxie took a deep breath, her eyes still closed. The slight movements of her body, the way she leaned in and tilted herself, told him where she wanted to be touched. She was as easy to read as a book when it came to this kind of thing. And she had always responded so well to his gentle touch, the way he had taught her to trust and seek comfort from another creature's hands.

He shifted his grip to cup the back of her head, his thumbs still working the tight muscles of her neck. His other hand slid down to her shoulder, his fingers playing over the smooth skin there, tracing the outline of her collarbone. Her breathing grew even, the tightness in her body melting away.

"Mm," she murmured, sounding a bit dazed, though content. "Not fair to... To use touch like that." She didn't pull away, though, and he took that as a good sign.

"It's the only way I know to get through to you," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her. His hands never stopped moving, one on her neck, the other playing with the fabric of her shirt, as if trying to coax her out of her shell. "You're so... wild, Mox. You've always been like that."

Moxie swallowed, feeling his words resonate within her. It was true; she had been wild when she first joined the Brotherhood. She still was in many ways, but with Victor, she had found a strange, almost paternal comfort in his rough embrace. His touch had always had a way of calming her, even when she was at her most rebellious and fiery. She knew he was manipulating her, but she couldn't find it in herself to be angry anymore.

Sabretooth felt the shift in her energy, and his own aggression melted away. He slid his hand from her neck down to her chest, his palm resting just over her heart. He could feel it racing, and his own heart swelled with a fierce protectiveness. He leaned closer, his nose brushing against her hair, inhaling the scent of her, the smell of the club fading away to reveal the sweet, musky scent of his little fox beneath.

Wippys