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maxwell-mtv · 4 months

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To Wish Upon a Winter Star [Morris x G/N!Reader]

[HEY THERE, HI THERE, HO THERE! Sorry this took me a moment, I had to make sure this was perfect and then realized this would make for an excellent series so this will probably only be part 1 tbh. So my apologies for the offish end, but I assure you this intended to be a series now.

TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNINGS: Spicy old men who will gladly kill each other if they were only able too, jealousy, and brief alcohol mention!

Any who-sies, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year to all you lovely folks out there <3. I hope you enjoy, and let me know if there's anything I can improve upon. I want to only produce the best for you all.]

“Morris Tod, the manager of Joja Mart, at our town's festival? That's ridiculous! What business does that corporate pig have nosing around our traditions? As if he has any right to intrude! He's the one who's actively ruining this town!” The shop owner slaps his newspaper onto his sales counter.

With a careless shrug, the purple haired girl finishes shuffling through her backpack.. “I don't know, Dad, that's just what Sam was telling me. Seems like maybe he's really trying to get involved.”

Sniffing and narrowing his eyes, the hunched man takes a bitter sip from his coffee mug. “What are the odds he's only showing because of the new Farmer?” His question was framed more as an accusation than a genuine point of conversation.

“I don't know. I don't care. I just don't want you to have an aneurysm when you see him there like you did when he showed up to the Luau…” The young woman rolls her eyes as she slings her bag over her shoulder and heads for the exit.

“Language, Abigail!” The man nearly stands up from his stool. “And where do you think you're going with that bag?”

“Outside?” She responds incredulously, pushing her way out the store.

Sitting back in his seat, Pierre takes another sip from his mug but not before scoffing at his daughter's rude attitude. This was going to be interesting, to say the least.

…

Looking like Ebenezer Scrooge in the way he dressed, Morris carried on conversation after conversation with the locals in town square. It was funny how despite his general appearance that the man could be so charming when he wanted to be. At least to him, all it took was a one-liner here and there, then a charming incentive to make them want more. For hours, every chance he got, he'd practiced and practiced for every possible scenario. Even in the mirror in those brief moments when he'd be tying his bowtie, he'd practice his facial expressions and the endearing expressions that would help charm those around him.

Despite his best efforts, these skills could only take him so far. Often only as far as the supermarket he ran. He wasn't as sought after as he may have liked, years of rejection and loneliness helped to drive that point home especially. Now, as he took his seat on a corner table, this point was driven home for him once more. No one came up to him, and with every passing glance of the locals, he swore he wasn't truly welcome there. Perhaps observing this town's tradition this year wasn't the best idea. He could have easily taken his one day off a year and stayed home. Or maybe he could even call his mother who he'd hardly talked to since he basically moved into the town.

Bouncing his leg, he glances over to spot the incoming farmer who seemed in a rush to get to the festivities. Glancing at his wrist watch, he saw why they were in such a rush. It was already nearly noon, halfway through the celebration hours.

Suddenly, his ideas of leaving, escaping, or anything of the sort disappear. He watches the young farmer as they start their rounds. But he's taken by surprise when a strange pang of jealousy bubbles within him as he watches them talk to Pierre before scurrying off towards the others. He stands and weaponizes this strange new feeling, planning his his attack while he approached Pierre's stall, he makes sure the farmer's back is turned for this next part.

Resting an arm on the desk part of the stall, he glances at Pierre. “Working year round, are we?”

“Save for Wednesdays, I have no choice.” Pierre responds coldly.

“What a shame, this wouldn't happen if you'd just close up shop and work for us. We could use a good numbers guy.”

“Oh really?” The tired middle aged man says sarcastically. “Is that so?”

“Oh yes, you know pricing all our items can become quite the daunting task. I'm sure a man of your caliber could easily achieve such low-brow work.” Morris says, finding himself to feel rather proud in the moment.

Pierre gawks and nearly chokes on his own spit. “What's your deal, you slimy scumbag?” He spits out through clenched teeth. “What's your fetish with tearing me down and ruining my life every chance you get?”

Morris's grin widens as he gets this response. “I would say you're the one who's self-sabotaging, Pierre. After all, how hard could it be to just shut down shop and work for a more secure job?”

“Because I'd be letting you win.”

“What a childish way of looking at things.” Morris takes a pause to glance over his shoulder to make sure the farmer was nowhere in ear shot. He quickly turns and leans in, smirking at his glowering counterpart. “Why don't you just surrender this losing battle of yours? I'll gladly take your clients off your hands and in return you can spend more time with your darling family.”

“As far as I'm concerned, you can kiss my-” Before Pierre can finish his statement, his wife approaches with two plates sandwiched together. Morris takes this opportunity to leave and go to the tables of food and beverages, some of which this year proudly provided by the local Joja Mart. It was merely a small show of appreciation to the townsfolk for letting him join in on the local festivities.

As you finished your rounds, you took a deep breath. Now all there was to do was to give your secret person the gift, receive yours and then you could head out. As you approached Willy to say hello and hand him his gift, you're stopped by a familiar voice.

“Well if it isn't my favorite soon-to-be customer!” Morris approaches, holding out a travel cup for you to take. His cheeky grin never falters as he eyes you over.

“Oh, hey Morris.” You hadn't known the man outside of the few awkward encounters at and around Pierre's. You only ever went over the stream for the Library or Clint's so you hardly ever thought about Joja Mart. You glance warily at the steaming cup, wondering what it was you were supposed to do.

“Here, it's rather chilly out here, don't you think?” He gestures for you to take the cup before sensing your hesitance. “Don't worry, this is Joja's finest cocoa! It's soy, dairy, nut, and gluten free!”

“Then what's in it?” You question, skeptical of any and all Joja products, having worked for the central offices for so long.

“That's a surprise.” He winks at you, basically placing the cup in your own hand at this point.

You take a moment to smell the steam billowing from the cup, only for you to instinctually lean away. “Thanks.” Noting the oddly chemical scent, you lean away and subtly place the cup on a table behind you.

“Not a problem. I don't know why they hold this event outside. Wouldn't it be much more reasonable to have it indoors?” He glances around the set up. “Joja Mart is always happy to rent out our vast, open spaces. Our shelves are easily movable with the help of our able-bodied staff!”

“I heard they used to hold this in the Community Center before it crumbled apart.” You mention passively.

“I see, I suppose this way when it gets dark, we can all gather to see the star.”

“The star?” Was there really the legendary star? You'd never seen it before, of course it was a local legend for a reason.

Nodding the larger man turns to point you towards where the sea was. “Ah yes, the star. Haven't you heard the story yet?” He cocks a brow. “Everyone in town knows the story, even I do. Although if you ask me, I think it's all fantasy.”

Intrigued, you pry for the story. He tells it to you with less enthusiasm and color than Willy might have, but it was informative to say the least. If only you hadn't been interrupted on your way to the fisherman, it would perhaps seem more magical to you. “How would you like to meet me tonight on the docks? I’d be happy to point it out to you.”

You didn't know why, but the way his crimson eyes stared into yours inclined you to say yes. “Sure.”

“Great! Meet me tonight at 10, I'll be waiting by the fishing shack.” He establishes, letting you go off to finish what you were inclined to do.

…

Hours go by, the festivities quickly wrap up with Pierre hardly making any gold. Exhausted, everyone goes back to their respective homes, others retire to the Saloon for a late night drink to calm their nerves. At the bar side, Morris sips on an Old Fashion and thinks over the day's events. What was up with that feeling inside his chest from earlier? Why did he so readily and easily insult and belittle Pierre? Sure they'd always had a strained business relationship, if one could even call it that. But he certainly went too far to go out of his way to shut him down like that. For a brief moment, Morris could feel some guilt festering in his stomach before drowning it with a final sip from his drink.

Setting the empty glass down, he places down a fine amount of gold to match the generosity shown to him with the potency of Gus's pour. He strides from the Saloon and makes his way over the bridge to the beachside. Any minute now, he'd need to show the new farmer a star he didn't even know the location of. All he knew was he would know it when he saw it.

Sitting on the docks, he lets his finely crafted leather shoes dangle over the water. Truly the drink had helped to let him relax more than normal. Leaning back, he takes a deep breath in. This was it. He was going to sell the farmer on Joja. Who didn't love to support a manager who went out of their way to create a relationship with them?

He heard the sound of steps walking over the creaking wooden boards which separated them from the sea below. Glancing over his shoulder, his hazy mind grew elated at the sight of you. His usual cheeky smile returned, but you could swear there was something different about it.

“Hey! If it isn't my favorite soon-to-be customer!” He says, turning his attention back up to the night sky. His heart seemed to skip a beat, only to pound all the harder to make up for lost time. His cheeks flushed red, but you couldn't see that, much to his luck, under the night light. “Come join me.” He offers a place next to him, patting his hand on the wooden docks.

“You sure? The dock is rather wet.” You cautioned yourself, unsure of his intentions. It was clear that something was off about his demeanor, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“You don't have to if you don't want to. I've just always loved this spot.” He shrugs, continuing to get lost in the stars above.

“Are you okay? You don't seem like your usual self today. I mean, Pierre even told me how you absolutely tore him to shreds earlier. I don't know you very well but if I had to guess I'd think something was wrong.” You take your seat next to him, albeit carefully considering you weren't wanting to get hypothermia tonight if you happened to slip into the waters below.

Morris felt his stomach drop. Of course Pierre would tell the farmer about that. “Oh, yes. I don't know what happened with that.” He lies, looking into the distance. That was the last thing he wanted to think about right now.

You take a moment to look over the manager's features. His slightly feathered hair, his sorrowful, almost empty expression, not to mention his glistening red eyes. It felt as if this wasn't the manager you'd grown to know over time. “Morris,” you start.

He looks over and into your eyes. “Hm?”

“You know you don't have to put on an act with me like everyone else, right? I hate it when people feel the need to wear a mask around me in order to gain my favor.” You confess, looking into his softening gaze.

“I don't know what you mean.” He chuckles, trying to brush it off.

“Listen, I know it might be hard, especially doing it all the time but you can let your guard down around me. Either way, I'm never going to shop at Joja Mart.”

That last sentence gets his attention, his glasses nearly tilting off his face with how fast he shoots you a look. “What!?”

“Yeah, I hate to break it to you but I'm in full support of Pierre. So please, stop pretending.” Shrugging, you watch as the man goes through several stages of processing.

For a moment, Morris wonders why he's even sticking around then. He knew he could charm anyone into shopping at his store, sometimes all it took was a big enough discount to have them reeling in. Then again, why didn't he try that already?

He looks to you and sighs, slumping his shoulders and swallowing his pride. “I suppose that's only fair.” He relents.

You watch in surprise as he gets up and starts walking off the docks. Wasting no time, you rise to your feet, slipping a little as you rush after him. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” He says, sounding defeated.

“You were supposed to show me the star.” You point out.

“Hm?” He looks back over his shoulder at you, he'd nearly forgotten.

“Yeah, you were going to show me the star.”

“You still want to see it?”

“Of course I do.”

“Willy would be far better for that.”

“Willy's not around.” You state bluntly. You were not about to let this man go so easily. At least, not in the state he seemed to be in now.

Turning around, Morris runs a nervous hand through his already messy hair. “Look, I won't lie to you, I don't even know where that stupid star is.”

It was as if in letting his mask fall, he'd revealed just how exhausted he really was. And the alcohol in his system certainly didn't help with him feeling it.

“That's okay, we can look for it together.” You insist calmly. “Unless you'd like to go home, in which case I'm completely fine with that too. But I'd love it if you'd look for it with me.”

Your subtle plea peaks his fancy. “I-I can stay.” He says, wondering if he'll regret this.

But just as his doubts were getting the best of him, your warm smile washes any future regret away.

Cut to nearly an hour of sitting back on the slippery docks together, you two start pointing out stars.

“I think it might be that one.” You say, pointing to another especially bright star.

“No, what about that one?” Morris points up in his own direction.

“Which one?”

Morris leans in and tries to point your vision towards his. “There.”

“I don't know which one you're seeing, but you're definitely wrong.” You say, leaning into him more until you two are touching. It felt so right, considering the chilly outdoors, his warm body made the lovely view even cozier. Morris chuckles and shakes his head. “No, see? It's large and purple and-”

“That's a plane.” You burst out laughing.

Morris looks down at you and adjusts his glasses. “What?”

“Yeah, that's a plane! See? It's lights are flashing, that's why they look-”

“Ey, what're ya two doing out here at this late hour? Don'tcha know I'm trying ta sleep in here?” A scruffy voice hollers from the window at the top of the fishing shack.

Both of you dart your eyes up to meet the fisherman's gaze. “Sorry, Willy.” You say. “I didn't even know you were in there.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. But just so you two know, the Winter Star is over there.” He points in the direction of the town where a large, looming purple star is clearing shining upon the sandy beach. “Now get outta here ye two love birds!” And with that, you two are left to each other again.

For a moment, you stare into each other's eyes again before you eventually break the awkward silence with laughter. “Well, we found it!” You manage to say.

“Yeah.” Morris says softly, glancing at you with a new found fondness.

Love birds?

This could be the beginning of something he'd been needing all along.

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