mayhaps a soft arts and craft date with jade leech 🥺
i'm a natural blue
jade leech x reader
jade surprises you with an art and crafts date
wc: 500
warnings: none??
jade leech was never one for grand gestures. his love came in quiet, deliberate motions. the way he’d fix your posture when you were painting, or how he’d wordlessly hand you a cup of tea before you even realized you wanted one. so when your anniversary rolled around, you didn’t expect much beyond his usual charm and sly half-smiles.
you came home to find the lights dimmed, a soft scent of pine and paint in the air. the table was covered in newspaper, scattered with jars of acrylics, brushes, and blank ceramic mugs. jade stood by the counter, sleeves rolled up, his tie loose, a faint smudge of green paint already staining the edge of his glove.
“ah, you’re right on time,” he said, voice smooth as ever. “i was beginning to worry the surprise would dry out before you arrived.”
you laughed, setting your bag down. “arts and crafts? that’s… not what i expected from you.”
his lips curved slightly. “i suppose you were expecting something more elaborate? perhaps dinner by candlelight or a bouquet of deep-sea lilies?”
“maybe,” you teased, walking closer. “but this is cute. i like it.”
he hummed, pleased. “good. i thought it would be nice to make something together. something imperfect, yet ours.” you both sat down, dipping brushes into the colors. jade’s strokes were precise and neat, every motion deliberate. yours, in contrast, were messy. paint splattered across the mug, streaks of color overlapping where you lost patience with the details. he chuckled softly whenever you sighed at your own work, eyes glinting in quiet amusement.
“you paint like you live,” he murmured, glancing at your mug. “with feeling first, and think later.”
“and you paint like you breathe,” you countered. “controlled, quiet. kind of terrifying.”
he tilted his head, pretending to be wounded. “terrifying? i’m hurt.”
you snorted. “you should be.”
the night melted into laughter and the soft clinking of ceramic. you tried painting little jellyfish on your mug, but none of them looked right. jade said he liked them anyway. when you looked up, you caught him watching you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it.
“you know,” he said after a while, “this was nice.”
“you sound surprised,” you teased, rinsing your brush.
he shook his head. “not surprised, just reminded.”
“of what?”
“that happiness doesn’t always need to be complicated,” he said simply, his gaze steady on you. “sometimes it’s just… sharing quiet moments. a table. a bit of color.”
you smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. when the mugs were finally finished, they were imperfect and messy streaks of color bleeding together, fingerprints pressed into the glaze. but jade looked at them like they were art.
“they’re flawed,” he said, fingers brushing over yours, “but lovely.”
you leaned your head against his shoulder. “like us.”
he laughed quietly, that rare, unguarded sound that always made your heart ache. “yes,” he said softly. “exactly like us.”
request are open !!
sunday funday event
