❛ i've got a boyfriend, he's older than us, he's in the club doin' i-don't-know-what ❜ ━━ ADAM BANKS X OC ━━ STRANGERS TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS ━━ i do not own the mighty ducks trilogy
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
chapter twenty-two (bonus chapter!): i smell snow
[a/n]: surprise! well, not really a surprise, since i alluded to an extra chapter at the end of the last one. also, listening to fruitcake while writing this chapter >>>
tw(s): none
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
★ ━━━ "JUST GIVE ITto me, Adam!" Leslie demands, anxiety riddling her voice as she watches Adam teeter on the top step of the ladder, fumbling with the golden star atop the Banks' Christmas tree. "You're going to fall and break your head, and I'm going to sit there and laugh and say 'I told you so.'"
"No!" he protests. "I've got it!" He fastens the star on the tip of the tree, letting go of it slowly. The star falls on its side and drops from the prickly leaves of the tree and onto Leslie's lap.
"As predicted. My turn!" Leslie announces, waving the ornament in his face.
Angela Banks watches the playful banter from the doorway, stripping the warm oven mitts off of her hands with a grin. "Once Leslie's done with the star, why don't you kids come into the kitchen and have some cookies? They're fresh!"
"Thanks, Mrs. Banks!" Leslie calls out behind her, her voice straining as she stretches her body over the top of the ladder. "I'll just be a second!"
"It would be half a second if you'd let me do it!" Adam grumbles, sitting cross-legged on the soft, carpeted floor in his plaid pajama pants.
"Quit...complaining...Adam!" Leslie says, fastening the star successfully at the top of the tree and turning around to stick her tongue out at her boyfriend. "It's Christmas, so you better not pout." She hops down from the ladder and makes a beeline for the doorway to the kitchen. "The nice ones get cookies first."
Adam rolls his eyes and jogs into the kitchen after her, snatching the half-eaten cookie in her hand. "Hey!" she shouts. "Mrs. Banks, your son is an absolute miscreant! I think he should get coal."
Angela smiles, the corners of her eyes creasing deeply. "I'll definitely see if I can arrange that."
Philip Banks' face peeks out of his office doorway, the phone cradled into his neck. "I'll be out in a minute," he promises. "I've just got to finish this call."
Angela smiles at her husband, nodding and waving him back into his office. Adam smiles too; he's been on much better terms with his father recently, he doesn't know how. Maybe it's something in the winter air.
Leslie perks up, her brows furrowing. Something in her eyes glow, and she rushes to the living room bay window and perches herself on the ledge. "I smell snow," she whispers.
