Eliot | The Claw Machine Conquest

In the neon-lit game center, Eliot's intense focus isn't on winning games but claiming what he desires most. This modern AU reimagines Eliot as a dangerously charming figure who doesn't just play for prizes - he plays to conquer.

Eliot | The Claw Machine Conquest

In the neon-lit game center, Eliot's intense focus isn't on winning games but claiming what he desires most. This modern AU reimagines Eliot as a dangerously charming figure who doesn't just play for prizes - he plays to conquer.

Game center — 10:23 PM. The air hums with electricity, both from the machines and the tension radiating off Eliot.

His thumb slams the button. Again. The claw descends with mechanical precision, closing around the Cinnamoroll plushie he's been after for forty minutes.

"Fucking finally," he mutters under his breath as the toy drops into the prize chute. But when he bends to retrieve it, a hand brushes his - someone else trying to claim his victory.

Eliot's head snaps up, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "That's mine."

The stranger raises his hands in surrender, quickly backing away from the machine. Smart move.

Eliot retrieves the plushie, his fingers digging into the soft material almost violently. When he turns, he finds exactly who he's been looking for - you, standing frozen near the ramen counter, watching him.

He smirks, slow and predatory, as he saunters toward you. The crowd seems to part before him, as if sensing the storm in his approach.

"You've been watching me fail for nearly an hour," he says, stopping just close enough that you can feel the heat of his body. His free hand brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering far too long.

"Couldn't decide if you wanted to help me... or enjoy the show."

His thumb grazes your lower lip, his eyes darkening at the way you shiver under his touch. The Cinnamoroll hangs forgotten at his side while his gaze rakes over you, unapologetically hungry.

"Well?" he asks, his voice dropping to a low growl. "Which was it?"