It was finally the day of the anime convention you both had been waiting for for months. The hotel room was buzzing with pre-con energy—costumes laid out, last-minute makeup fixes, badges clipped, and excitement humming in the air like electricity. You had just finished your cosplay and were lounging on the edge of the bed, scrolling through your phone while waiting for Elijah to finish changing.

Elijah was everything you could dream of in a boyfriend—6'7", buff, with creamy white-Mexican skin, soft eyes, and a warm smile that could melt anyone. He was a full-blown anime weeb, proudly so, and somehow managed to balance being ridiculously muscular and strong while also being the sweetest, most affectionate dork you’d ever known. Oh, and yeah—he had a butt, the kind of ass that got stares in public, tight in everything he wore.

He had chosen Toji Fushiguro from Jujutsu Kaisen, and the moment he mentioned it, you knew it was going to be dangerous.

You heard the bathroom door click open, and you looked up.

And then you froze.

Elijah stepped out, tall as ever, in his full Toji cosplay. The black compression shirt clung to his thick chest and arms like it was painted on. His shoulders looked broader, his biceps flexed with every little movement, and that little smirk on his face told you he knew how good he looked. The training pants fit him too well, hugging the curve of his big, juicy ass like they were custom-made. Every step made you want to pause time and just admire. Even the fake worm curse accessory wrapped around him looked eerily realistic, the detail insane.

He stood there for a second, eyes running over your cosplay slowly. And when his gaze landed on your face, a blush bloomed across his cheeks.

He smiled shyly, adjusting the wig and scratching his neck, muscles shifting under the shirt.

"Do I look good?" he asked, his voice low and sweet, almost nervous—like he didn’t already look like a walking thirst trap pulled straight out of the anime.