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xhoess · 3 months ago

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Crossing Lines

Hugh jackman x fem bod reader

Masterlist wc: 7,3k

Summary , a 25-year-old journalist, develops an romantic connection with Hugh Jackman, a charismatic actor in his mid-50s, while writing his biography. Despite the age gap and professional boundaries, the attraction between you deepens, leading to a passionate affair.

Warnings: top!reader, bottom!Hugh, age gap (legal)

As you stride through the bustling city streets, your heart thrums with excitement, each step echoing the monumental opportunity ahead. Today is the day your editor finally gives you the assignment you’ve been dreaming of since you first sat down in a journalism class — writing the biography of Hugh Jackman. For a 25-year-old up-and-coming journalist, it feels surreal to have the chance to capture the essence of a man whose career you’ve followed closely, whose roles have shaped your understanding of storytelling and performance.

After weeks of anticipation, your meeting with Hugh is set for a cozy café nestled within the city's artsy district. You arrive early, your stomach fluttering with nerves as you order a coffee, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind. What could possibly attract such a famous star to a fresh-faced journalist like you? Yet, as you scan the café, contemplating that question, you spot him through the glass windows.

Hugh enters, casual yet charismatic in a fitted navy sweater and jeans. The minute he steps inside, the atmosphere seems to shift; even among the clusters of people, he somehow stands out. His smile, infectious and warm, instantly illuminates the room. As he walks toward you, your nerves evaporate under the heat of his genuine enthusiasm.

“Hey there! You must be the journalist I've been hearing about,” Hugh says, extending his hand with a friendly grin that showcases the dimples you’ve seen a thousand times on-screen.

Your handshake is firm but nervous, and you can’t help but chuckle at how at ease he makes you feel. “Yes, that’s me! I’m so thrilled to meet you. Thank you for taking the time.”

“Trust me, the pleasure’s all mine,” he replies, gesturing for you to take a seat at a small, sun-drenched table. You can’t help but notice how his charisma seems to put everyone around him at ease.

As you settle into conversation, the initial questions and answers tumble out easily. You revel in his anecdotes about the early days of his career, stories that whisk you away to a different time. He speaks candidly about his passion for acting, the challenges he faced during auditions when he was just starting out, and the fiercely competitive environment of the industry.

“What was your biggest failure?” you ask, genuinely curious, hoping to seek the deeper truths behind the Hollywood glimmer.

Hugh’s expression momentarily changes; he leans back slightly, his gaze shifting as if contemplating the weight of your question. “You know, the pressure to succeed can sometimes make you forget why you fell in love with the craft in the first place,” he admits, his tone turning reflective. “I remember losing a significant role to someone else, and it stung. But that's part of the journey, isn’t it? You grow from those moments. You realize that failure isn’t the opposite of success; it’s part of it.”

You nod, fascinated. The more he opens up, the more the boundaries of interviewer and celebrity blur, replaced by a genuine connection.

As the conversation flows, the age difference feels like a minor detail; your minds and interests align in ways that make the moment feel timeless. An hour passes, but it hardly feels like a standard interview. Instead, it feels as if you’ve stumbled into a rich tapestry of shared experiences and emotions.

“Tell me about yourself,” Hugh prompts, the genuine curiosity in his voice encouraging you to peel back layers of your own story. You share anecdotes—tracing your journey through journalism, your dreams and fears, and your admiration for genuine connection.

To your surprise, you find yourself sharing more than you had anticipated. Buoyed by his kindness, you talk about your childhood dreams, your competitive spirit, and the moments of doubt you’ve faced in your career.

“I found you incredibly brave,” Hugh says, leaning in slightly, a sincere warmth radiating from him. “Pursuing what you love despite the risks—that’s true courage.”

His gaze holds yours, and for a moment, the busy café fades away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in the shared energy. The atmosphere is charged. Maybe you’re projecting, but there’s something electric in the way his eyes linger on you, stirring a deep curiosity within.

Thus begins a journey that neither of you can predict. The casual café, once a mere backdrop, transforms into the starting point of something that ignites possibilities neither of you dared to fathom.

When the time comes to leave, Hugh stands and stretches, a motion that draws your attention to his commanding presence. “I look forward to our next meeting,” he says, a hint of promise laced in his tone. “I have so many stories left to share.”

As you walk out together, the lightness of the moment is heavy with implication. The sun casts a golden glow over the city, mirroring the warmth in your chest as the door closes behind you, sealing away the outside world. You both step into something new—an unspoken agreement lingers in the air, hinting at the shared curiosity that hangs between the two of you and the many stories yet to come.

You leave the café buzzing, awash in the thrill of possibility and the raw honesty of your conversation. The future feels bright, tinged with excitement and a flicker of something else—a connection, undeniable and fierce, that you can no longer ignore.

The weeks rolled by quickly and the rhythm of your days began to mold around your time with Hugh. Each interview revealed layers of the man you admired, peeling back the façade of the celebrated actor to uncover a genuine warmth that pulsed beneath. Those first moments of nervousness had faded, replaced by a sense of familiarity that felt both exhilarating and daunting.

You found yourself in a vibrant world—one that sparkled with excitement and challenges. Your first informal outing with Hugh was a trip to the set of his upcoming film. As you stood a safe distance from the lively chaos of crew members and actors, you watched Hugh shift effortlessly into his character. He embodied the role with such authenticity that it left you breathless. The way he interacted with the cast had an ease to it, commanding yet approachable. You couldn’t help but admire his professionalism, noting how he balanced being a star with being humble.

“Do you see what I mean?” Hugh called out, breaking character long enough to glance your way. He was engaging with the crew, tossing jokes back and forth—a lightness that was infectious. “There’s something amazing about creating something with other people.”

You nodded, but inside, your thoughts drifted to how effortlessly he made connections. Each word felt like a secret just between the two of you, drawing you in further.

As the days slipped into weeks, your coffee breaks became a treasured ritual. Sitting across from him, you found yourself laughing at tales from his childhood in Australia, almost forgetting the weight of his fame. He spoke earnestly about film roles that changed him, how the weight of expectation sometimes felt unbearable. On alternate days, you’d share your own small victories—a published article, a radio mention—gladly listened to by someone who understood the thrill of breaking news. The rapport deepened with every exchange, and by the time the afternoon sun filtered through the café windows, you found yourselves sharing thoughts on love, loss, and the uncharted territory of adulthood.

You could feel the attraction shimmering beneath your conversations—a vast ocean of proximity that threatened to pull you both in deeper. Each brush of your knees beneath the table, every lingering gaze, was a silent acknowledgment of the connection that stood between you. While you’d both made tacit agreements to keep things professional, the chemistry was undeniable. You saw it in the way his eyes sparked when yours met, how the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly when he noticed you studying him, lost in thought.

One rainy afternoon, after a particularly insightful interview, he invited you to see him rehearse for an upcoming theater production. Standing in the dim light of the rehearsal room, you felt the electricity in the air—the tension that came from passion thriving in a close space. Hugh’s presence was magnetic, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he breathed life into each line. The commitment he displayed, the raw emotion that embedded in his performance, left you in awe.

At the end of the rehearsal, he found you in the back, watching with rapt attention. “What did you think?” he asked, wiping the sweat from his brow, his voice low and intimate.

“It was incredible,” you replied honestly, caught in his gaze. “You made it real.”

“Thank you. That means a lot coming from you,” he replied, shrugging off the compliment. As he smiled, it was as if the whole world faded away, and the burgeoning feelings expanded into the space between you.

Afterward, you strolled through the bustling streets, the sky a bruised purple, filled with the anticipation of a coming storm. You shared thoughts about theater, passion, and life, and each word flowed easier than the last. Yet with each moment, the attraction loomed larger, an unspoken current that wrapped around you both, pulling you towards a precipice.

Hugh, sensing the shift in the air, brought the conversation to a softer, more personal tone. “I sometimes worry about being forgotten, about fading into the background,” he confessed, his voice almost a whisper. It startled you, this glimpse into his vulnerability.

You wanted to reach out, place a reassuring hand on his arm, share the burden of his fears, but something held you back. Instead, you shared your own doubts about your career, the uncertainty that often nipped at your heels. He listened intently, nodding and tilting his head, making you feel seen in a way you had never experienced before.

The boundaries you had both set began to blur, each emotional revelation feeling as intimate as a secret whispered in the dead of night. When your hands brushed against each other, igniting that familiar spark, you flinched slightly, heart racing.

As daylight faded and the streets glowed with the warmth of streetlights, you found yourselves standing outside a cozy little café you’d both passed.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?” Hugh asked, his voice light, but the tension still electric.

“Sure,” you replied, laughter spilling from your lips as you stepped inside, perhaps too easily forgetting all the boundaries you had meant to maintain.

The air between you felt charged. You settled into a corner booth, but the conversation had taken on a life of its own—lightly teasing yet profound. With each laugh, every shared glimmer of understanding, the invisible strings binding you pulled taut, almost fraying at the edges under the weight of unspoken desire.

But as the evening wore on and the laughter faded, an unnameable tension settled between you. Perhaps it was the age difference, perhaps a fear of complicating your career. But deep down, you both knew: something was brewing beneath the surface, begging to be acknowledged even as you danced around it.

As you left the café, the lingering touches and gazes could no longer be ignored. It felt daunting, the knowledge that you both could either step into uncharted territory or retreat to what had been your safe haven: a friendship grounded in admiration and professional respect. But one question loomed larger than the rest: were you willing to risk it all for a chance at something deliciously uncertain?

With each passing day, it became harder to imagine life without him, as unspoken words hung in the air like stars waiting to break through the dawn. Would you allow yourselves to feel it, to embrace the pull? That was the question that sparked a myriad of possibilities, eager to unravel at the slightest touch.

The day that Hugh invited you to dinner felt almost surreal. You had shared countless hours together, laughing and discussing his life, and now he was asking you to step outside the parameters of your professional relationship. The combination of excitement and apprehension danced in your stomach like butterflies eager to break free.

The restaurant was tucked away from the bustling streets, an upscale venue where elegance and intimacy intertwined flawlessly. Candles flickered on the tables, casting soft shadows that mingled with the warm glow of the overhead lights. As you walked in together, Hugh’s hand found the small of your back, an innocent gesture that sent shivers down your spine. The ambiance hinted at romance, and you could feel the anticipation in the air.

Over the course of the evening, you talked about everything from films to dreams. Hugh’s laughter was comforting, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. He spoke with such passion about his current project, the excitement in his eyes igniting something deep within you. The wine flowed, the atmosphere was electric, and with every shared anecdote, the line between professional and personal faded further away.

At times, his gaze lingered a little longer on you than necessary, and you reveled in the warmth of his attention. It felt thrilling, almost forbidden, but the connection was undeniable. As the courses came and went, the flirtation between you grew more pronounced, transforming the conversation from simple pleasantries into something that sent your heart racing.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to step away from everything?” Hugh asked, swirling his wine glass, his thoughtful expression betraying the weight of his words. “To just escape, be someone else for a while?”

You leaned forward, captivated, sensing the vulnerability beneath his confident demeanor. “I think we all crave authenticity,” you replied. “Sometimes the roles we play in life feel like they overshadow who we really are.”

Hugh nodded, his eyes piercing through you as if he were reading the lines of a story yet to be written. “Authenticity can be hard to find when you’re in the public eye. It’s a strange feeling, needing to connect but knowing there are walls built around you.”

“It must be lonely,” you said softly, the truth of his words resonating with your own experiences throughout your career.

He smiled, yet his expression weighed heavy with sincerity. “That’s why genuine connections are so important. They remind us that we’re not alone, that there’s still someone who sees us for who we are beneath all the layers.”

The evening wore on, and as Hugh filled your glass again, he leaned in closer. “You’re different,” he said, his voice low and measured. “I can talk to you in a way I haven’t felt in a long, long time.”

Your heart raced at his admission. You weren't just a journalist; you were the one person who understood the actor behind the fame, the man behind the roles. The air thickened with tension, and the magnetism pulling you both closer was impossible to resist.

After dinner, he suggested taking a walk along the nearby beach. The idea sent a rush of thrill through you, and you couldn’t say no. As you strolled beside each other, moonlight glistened off the waves, reflecting the quiet intensity of the moment. The rhythmic sound of the surf served as a perfect backdrop, calming yet charged with unspoken desire.

You found yourself brushing against him more often, your fingers grazing against each other almost purposefully. The spark each touch ignited was undeniable, and when you finally stopped to take in the view—the moon reflecting off the water—you turned to face him, your heartbeat quickening.

He looked at you, his brown eyes dark with emotion, and everything seemed to still. There was no going back. The tension hung thick between you, and without thinking, you closed the distance and leaned in. He met you halfway, and his lips captured yours in a kiss that started softly as a whisper. You melted into him, and the moment deepened, transforming into an awakening that sent shockwaves through your entire being.

Before you knew you were entering his apartment.

Hugh’s hands slipped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you surrendered to the passion that had been building since the first interview. He looked at you, his brown eyes dark with emotion, and everything seemed to still. There was no going back. The tension hung thick between you, and without thinking, you closed the distance and leaned in. He met you halfway, and his lips captured yours in a kiss that started softly as a whisper. You melted into him, and the moment deepened, transforming into an awakening that sent shockwaves through your entire being.

You pulled away, breathless, and looked into his eyes. "I want you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, his eyes gleaming with desire. "I want you too," he replied, and he leaned in to kiss you again. This time, the kiss was hungry, desperate, as if he couldn't get enough of you

Your hands roamed over his body, feeling the muscles tense beneath your fingertips. You reached down and grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to you. He groaned and pressed himself against you, his hard cock rubbing against your thigh.

"Let's take this to the bedroom," you said, your voice husky with desire.

He nodded, and you led him to your bedroom. You pushed him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. You ground your pussy against his cock, feeling the heat building between you.

"Fuck, you feel good," he said, his hands grasping your hips.

"I haven't even started yet," you replied, and you leaned down to kiss him again. Your tongues danced together as your hands explored each other's bodies.

You broke the kiss and sat up, pulling your shirt over your head. He watched you, his eyes dark with desire. You unclasped your bra and let it fall away, revealing your breasts. He reached up and cupped them in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

"You're so beautiful," he said, and he leaned up to take one of your nipples in his mouth. He sucked and bit gently, and you moaned with pleasure.

You reached down and undid his pants, freeing his cock. It was hard and thick, and you wrapped your hand around it, stroking it gently.

"I want to taste you," you said, and you leaned down to take him in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, savoring the salty taste of him. He groaned and threaded his fingers through your hair, guiding you as you sucked him deeper into your mouth.

After a few minutes, you pulled away and climbed back on top of him. You positioned yourself over his cock and slowly lowered yourself down onto it. You moaned as he filled you up, stretching you in the most delicious way.

You started to ride him, your hips grinding against his. He reached up and cupped your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," he said, his voice strained.

"You too," you replied, and you leaned down to kiss him again.

You broke the kiss and sat up, your hips still moving in a steady rhythm. You reached down and started to play with your clit, rubbing small circles over it.

"Oh god, I'm close," you said, your voice breathless.

"Me too," he replied, and he grabbed your hips, thrusting up into you harder.

You both came at the same time, your orgasms washing over you like waves. You collapsed onto him, your bodies slick with sweat.

"That was amazing," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, it was," he replied, and he kissed you softly.

You lay there for a few minutes, your bodies entwined, before finally getting up and getting dressed. You walked back to the living room, hand in hand, feeling closer than you ever had before.

Time lost all meaning as you surrendered to the connection that had grown over weeks spent in Hugh’s presence. You discovered not just the contours of each other’s bodies, but the depths of emotions that had long been buried beneath layers of ambition and expectation. You shared moments that transcended mere physical intimacy—it was raw, it was genuine, and it was deeply, achingly beautiful.

You wake up to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, the remnants of last night’s passion still shimmering at the edges of your memory. As you stir, the warmth of Hugh’s body beside you is both comforting and anxiety-inducing. You slowly prop yourself up on one elbow, trying to take in the serene expression on his face. His hair, tousled and messy, makes him look utterly disarming. The memory of his lips on yours, the way his hands explored every inch of your skin, sends a jolt of warmth through you. But as the thrill of the night starts to fade, reality crashes over you like a tidal wave.

What have you done?

It’s a question you’ve been silently wrestling with since you slipped into his life. The weight of the previous night hangs heavily in the air, and as you glance over at Hugh, you find yourself questioning everything. The thrill of your connection now contrasts sharply with the doubts swirling around in your mind. You’re not just a young reporter; you’re a 25-year-old woman who just crossed a monumental line with a man who’s not only twice your age but also a global superstar. What would your colleagues think? How would it affect your career?

Hugh stirs and opens his eyes, the momentary bliss of sleep fading as he meets your gaze. For a moment, there’s a flicker of that undeniable connection—the warmth of intimacy still lingering between you. But just as quickly, you see a shift in his expression, mirroring your own internal conflict.

“Morning,” he says, his voice a gravelly whisper, as if he is still finding his way back from one world to another.

“Morning,” you reply, your voice steadier than you feel. You sit up, tugging the sheets around you, as if shielding your emotions. The room feels smaller, like the walls are closing in, and all of a sudden, it’s hard to breathe.

Hugh runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you recognize from the many times you’ve seen him in public. It’s a familiar but intimate act, one that draws you in all over again. “Last night was… unexpected,” he admits, his words heavy with unspoken questions.

“Yeah,” you manage, unable to mask the tremor in your voice. “I didn’t think… well, I didn’t plan for it to happen.”

He nods, his expression serious as he shifts to sit up next to you. “Neither did I. But it did. And now we need to talk about it.”

“Do we?” You bite your lip, avoiding his gaze as a whirlwind of emotions crashes over you—fear, regret, thrill, and an undeniable desire that you can’t seem to escape. “What do we say? We can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.”

“No, we can’t.” He breathes out slowly, as if trying to steady himself. “But we also can’t ignore the implications. This isn’t just fun and games. You know that, right?”

Your heart sinks. You know he’s right; he’s always been right. “Yeah,” you whisper, a lump forming in your throat. “But… what if it wasn’t just a mistake? What if we… tried to make sense of this?”

Hugh looks at you, those warm brown eyes piercing through your doubts, challenging your fears. “What do you want?” he asks, his tone softening. “Do you want to walk away?”

The question hangs between you like a fragile thread, spinning out into the vast uncertainty of your feelings. You take a deep breath, heart pounding in your chest. The thought of leaving him sends a wave of pain coursing through you, yet the reality of your professional life looms larger than ever.

“I don’t know,” you admit finally, blinking back the tears threatening to spill. “It’s just… complicated. You’re Hugh Jackman. You’re a legend. And I’m just me. What happens when it all goes wrong?”

His expression softens, and he reaches for your hand, his touch grounding in the turmoil. “Every relationship has its risks. But isn’t that what makes it worth it? The chance to be with someone who makes you feel alive?”

You meet his gaze, only to find the depth of understanding wrapped in warmth and honesty. It’s a lifeline, and despite the fear flooding through you, something flickers within—an ember of hope that maybe this moment can turn into something lasting.

“Do you really think it’s worth it?” you push, still uncertain. “We’d be in the public eye. People will talk...”

“Let them talk,” he counters, the fierceness in his voice igniting something inside you. “I’ve spent my life worrying about what others think. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that living for the public can lead to a hollow existence. I don’t want to hide from what feels real.”

His words resonate within you, striking a chord you didn’t even know existed. The fear doesn’t disappear, but the possibility—the allure of a genuine connection—sets your heart racing. Once again, you are reminded of how he sees you not just as a journalist but as a woman, a person worthy of love and connection.

“I don’t want to walk away,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “I just don’t want to hurt you or jeopardize our lives.”

Hugh smiles softly, and for a moment, the tension lifts. “I won’t let you hurt me. But we have to be honest with ourselves. If we continue down this path, we have to be ready for the world to witness it.”

You swallow hard, the gravity of the situation settling over you like a heavy fog. “What if we take it slowly? Keep it under wraps until we figure things out?”

He considers your suggestion, the smile retreating slightly as he weighs the possibilities. “It might be the best approach. We can still pursue this connection, just… with some discretion.”

With a shared understanding, the path before you seems clearer, the feelings that have grown too immense to ignore now taking a tangible shape. As you lean into him, emotions swirling like a tempest within, you realize that you’re ready to risk it all for the chance to create a beautiful story with him. One that bends the rules but ultimately feels right.

The sun slowly dipped on the horizon, casting a warm golden hue through the large window of the café where you and Hugh had agreed to meet. This was meant to be just another interview session, yet you both knew the underlying current of tension had transformed each subsequent meeting into something decidedly more intimate—something that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

As you nestled into the cozy chair across from him, you couldn’t ignore the quiet thump of your heart echoing in your chest. The faint sounds of clinking cutlery and chatter melted into the background as you locked eyes with him; those deep, soulful orbs seemed to recognize the tumult of emotions swirling within you. Today was different.

Hugh’s casual approach veiled a seriousness beneath the surface. He was dressed simply in a navy shirt and jeans, his trademark charm effortlessly on display, but there was something in the set of his jaw that told you he was preparing to confront what had been left unaddressed since that fateful night.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” he began, his voice low and steady. “About us. About that night.”

You felt a shiver run through you, a jolt of recollection. The memory of his lips on yours, the way everything around you faded away as you became encapsulated in the moment, sent adrenaline coursing through your veins. But with that thrill came a nagging sense of dread, the reality of what it meant for both of you hanging heavily over your heads.

“I don’t want to pretend like that didn’t happen,” he continued, his expression earnest. “And despite the complications, I don’t want to walk away from… whatever this is.”

“What if it complicates everything?” you countered, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach. “You’re Hugh Jackman, and I’m just—”

“—just a brilliant journalist who’s been shining a light on the world for years,” he interjected, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re someone who sees me for who I am, not just who I portray on-screen. You’ve become so much more than just a subject of my biography.”

His words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, yet the underlying reality was indisputable. The age difference? The spotlight? The inevitability of hurt if things went sideways? Each point weighed heavily on your mind.

But there was a magnetic pull, a connection that felt undeniably unique. What the two of you had blossomed from shared experiences, laughter, and moments both profound and mundane was a rarity, one that would be foolish to dismiss without a fight.

“What are you saying?” you asked, your voice softer now, tinged with hope and uncertainty.

“I’m saying I don’t think I can walk away, and I’d rather risk the fallout than miss out on something real,” he confessed, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart flutter. “I want to see where this goes, if you do.”

Taking a deep breath, you weighed the implications: professional fallout, judgment from the public eye, the complexities of an age difference that loomed large in circumstances such as these. The questions danced on the tip of your tongue, begging to be vocalized. What would your editor say? What would your friends think? Would it jeopardize your burgeoning career? And then, lingering silently in the back of your mind—was it worth it?

But how could you ignore the way his laughter made your voice lift? The way your shoulders relaxed in his presence? Your gaze strayed down to his fingertips, grasped around the wine glass, elegant and assured, mirroring the strength you found within him.

“I don’t want to get hurt,” you said after a long silence, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m scared—what if we crash and burn?”

Hugh leaned back, his expression contemplative yet patient. “I get it; I've been through enough ups and downs in my life to understand the fear. But what if we soar? What if it’s exhilarating and meaningful?” His eyes sparkled with a glint of mischief. “They said I’d never be able to dance like I did in Moulin Rouge, and now look at me!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension breaking for a moment with his endearing humor. “You made it work, though. Would we even stand a chance?”

“I believe we would,” he said firmly, leaning closer once again. “But it takes that leap of faith. Look, let’s take it slow. Let’s keep growing our connection, exploring this—whatever it means—together. You don't have to give up your career or dreams for this, but I want you to know I’m here, and I’m willing to fight for you.”

As hope ignited in your chest, you felt a warmth radiate through you—a desire to plunge into the unknown with someone you had come to admire so deeply. You could feel the unyielding strength in his words; if he was willing to navigate the storm, perhaps you could, too.

And so, with a tremorous breath, the fear began to melt away, revealing a burgeoning excitement for what lay ahead. “Okay,” you finally said, your heart racing. “Let’s figure this out—together. But I want to take baby steps.”

Hugh’s smile could have illuminated the entire café as he nodded, visibly relieved. “That’s all I ask. And who knows? Maybe we’ll find something beautiful in the chaos.”

In that moment, surrounded by the soft hum of the café, you felt a sense of release—a weight lifted. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you had made a choice: to embrace the emotions that blossomed between you and Hugh Jackman, and to allow the journey to unfold in its own time.

As you both toasted to your new beginning, a delicious thrill coursed through you, igniting a spark of hope for what might blossom in the days to come.

OKAY THIS MAY BE MY FAV FIC I WRITE EVER OMG... part two maybe?? If yall think yes I want a part to COMMENT THAT OK???

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