Seven Sins System Chapter 668. Kitsune Propaganda
Seven Sins System Chapter 668. Kitsune Propaganda
The warmth of champagne clung to my throat. The buzz was low—more emotional than alcoholic. That strange kind of intoxication that came from not being alone, even when the guilt still pulsed beneath your ribs.
Evie was the first to curl around me after we came back inside. The music was soft, some ambient lo-fi playing from the speaker mounted in the corner. Her tails brushed my hip as she slid up behind me, arms draped across my shoulders like she’d been there all night.
“You’re broody,” she murmured against my ear, voice all fox mischief and barely contained purr. “It’s cute.”
“I’m serious,” I replied.
“You always are,” she said, fingers tracing the edge of my collar. “But you don’t have to be tonight.”
Rachel was already on the couch, her long ears flicking slightly with the rhythm of the music, her legs folded under her in a swirl of silky fabric. She patted the space beside her and grinned. “C’mere. You’re being emotionally complicated in the doorway.”
“Guilty.”
“And slow,” Claire added, walking past me with a wine bottle in one hand and three glasses in the other. Her tone was dry as desert air, but she bumped my hip as she passed—small, deliberate contact.
I let myself get pulled. First by Evie’s arms, then by Rachel’s eager hands tugging me down onto the couch. It didn’t feel forced. It didn’t feel like something I deserved either. But it felt… wanted. And maybe that was enough tonight.
Rachel straddled my lap before I could even adjust. Her skirt bunched around her thighs, the soft glide of it brushing over my pants. I froze instinctively, but she just rested her hands on my chest.
“You okay?” she asked, voice gentler now.
“I’m trying.”
She leaned in and kissed my forehead. “That’s the part we like.”
Claire set the glasses on the table with quiet efficiency. “Evie, don’t hog him.”
Evie flopped next to me, her tail curling around my arm like it had its own opinion. “He’s warm. And warm boys belong to foxes. Ancient rule.”
“I thought that was kitsune propaganda.”
“Same thing.”
Claire didn’t argue—just handed me a full glass and sat herself down at my other side, thigh pressed lightly against mine. She smelled like whatever elf perfume she wore when she didn’t want to smell like elf perfume. Vanilla, maybe. Something woody under it. Like she’d stepped out of a bookshop and into a dream.
Rachel leaned back slightly, her hands still resting on me. “You don’t have to be fixed, you know.”
“Already got the lecture from Claire.”
Claire sipped her wine without looking at me. “That wasn’t a lecture. That was tactical emotional stabilization.”
Evie grinned and took a long sip of champagne. “And this—” she gestured to the three of them wrapped around me “—is called aftercare.”
That made me laugh. The real kind this time. Low and slightly shocked out of my chest. “You guys make it sound like I just came back from war.”
“You did,” Rachel said.
“And we’re the peace treaty,” Evie added, her tails flicking up to flick my nose. “Sign it. With your mouth.”
“Evie,” Claire warned, but her mouth twitched.
Rachel tilted her head, eyes narrowing in mock-seriousness. “He might be tired. Emotionally exhausted. Mentally drained. We should be gentle.”
“Thank you,” I said, actually grateful for the out.
Then she rolled her hips forward.
I hissed.
Her smirk was wicked. “I said gentle. Not horny.”
Evie snorted. “He liked that.”
Claire’s hand slid down to my knee. Just resting there. Just grounding me. But it felt heavier than it should’ve. Or maybe that was just everything building up. The guilt. The heat. The realization that I’d nearly let this all feel like a side plot.
Rachel leaned in again, this time brushing her lips along my jaw. “You think too much.”
“I’m allowed to.”
Evie’s hand landed on my chest, splayed over my heart. “You’re allowed to stop, too.”
I wanted to. Hell, I wanted to. I wanted to let them pull it out of me—all the heaviness, all the hesitation, all the broken logic that kept circling in my head like a curse. I wanted to drown in something soft.
Rachel kissed my neck. Not hard. Not marking. Just slow.
I groaned, low in my throat. My hands finally moved, one sliding around her waist, the other brushing down Evie’s arm where it draped across my shoulder.
Claire set her glass down.
And then she shifted.
Not dramatically. Just… more present. Her body angled toward mine, her hand now tracing the inside of my thigh with maddening precision. “We’re not asking for all of you tonight,” she said softly, her voice sliding into the space between heartbeats. “Just enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“To remind you this is real,” she said. “That we’re not ghosts in your periphery.”
Rachel caught my lips before I could answer.
Her kiss was slow and open-mouthed, her hands moving to cup my face like I was something breakable and precious at the same time. She tasted like sugar and mischief, like that ridiculous bunny-girl confidence that usually got her into trouble during exams.
But she kissed like someone who knew how to anchor a storm.
Evie’s fingers slid down my chest and under my shirt, nails grazing skin.
Claire’s mouth found my ear.
And just like that, I wasn’t floating anymore. I was very, very present.
“You gonna let us take care of you?” Evie whispered, lips brushing the edge of my jaw. “Or do we have to pin you down?”
“I’m not opposed,” I muttered, half-dazed.
Rachel pulled back just enough to breathe, her cheeks flushed. “You’re not allowed to shut down on us again.”
“I’m not shutting down.”
“Then prove it,” she said, hips grinding again. “Show us we still belong to you.”
My fingers gripped her thighs, nails digging in slightly. The sound she made wasn’t innocent.
Claire kissed the corner of my mouth. “We don’t need promises tonight. Just presence.”
“I’m here,” I whispered, voice hoarse.