Jake Gyllenhaal One Shots

Honey 🔞

"No." The brunette said with a shake of her head, "Absolutely not."

Jake whined, "Wait, what? Why not?!"

She ran her graphite stained fingers over her buzzcut tiredly then rolled her eyes, "Because I don't want to be a convenience plus one."

"Oh, no. No, no. We'd pretend were dating." He clarified, "I just don't wanna show up alone. To a wedding. Again."

She huffed in annoyance, "Why don't you just date someone then? Like, actually date someone?"

Jake circled her art space restlessly and twirled a paintbrush between his fingers, "I mean, I haven't had time. What, with SpiderMan and Broadway -"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You're a busy hot shot." She interrupted and he scolded, "Molly West."

"Jake Gyllenhaal."

He tipped his head back to the ceiling and grabbed the low rafters of Molly's art loft, drumming his fingers on them loudly.

He did this for a good five minutes before he huffed again, "Please?"

She let her pencil clatter to the table defeatedly, rolling back her chair and standing to retrieve her empty mug, "You drove all the way to New Haven to ask me to be your pity date?"

Jake followed her down the stairs, jumping the last few to reach the bottom before she did, "And to see my absolute favourite person in the whole wide world."

"God, you lay the bullshit on thick." She muttered, retrieving a diet soda from the fridge and watching him pout dramatically, "Please?"

Molly took a sip of her drink, licking her lips in thought, "What's in this for me exactly?"

"Free alcohol." He began and she snickered, "Am I that transparent?"

"And." Jake said, pointing a finger at her, "You get to show up with me on your arm."

"Do you feel that?" She asked, gripping to the counter to steady herself, "I think I just felt your ego expanding."

He laughed and nudged her shoulder, "Haha, you're hilarious. But really. Get whatever dress you want, someone will do your make up for you. I promise you won't have to lift a finger. Except for a luxurious and relaxing manicure and pedicure...Please?"

She grumbled dramatically, "For fucks sake, Jake. Fine. Fine, I'll be your stupid date."

He whooped in victory, crushing her into an uncomfortable, tight hug, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Molly shrugged him off and tried pathetically to hide her smile behind an annoyed scowl, "Yeah, yeah. But you owe me big time."

He accepted that with a wide grin, "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

The night had started out innocently enough. A casual "honey" or "sweetheart" here and there. A chaste kiss on her cheek. A hand on the bare skin of her lower back as he guided them to their allocated table for the evening.

And then the questions Molly had been dreading were vocalised.

"So, where did you two meet?" An elderly lady asked as they all sat together, eating their entrees.

Molly almost choked on her sip of champagne and Jake took her hand beneath the table and squeezed it reassuringly.

"We quite literally bumped into one another." He explained effortlessly with a chuckle, "Both too focused on our phones. Next thing I know, I'm covered in iced tea and this beautiful woman is apologising profusely."