morpheus x reader oneshots & headcanons

playing with morpheus's hair

Morpheus isn't fond of people touching his hair. He might never admit it, but a surprising amount of effort goes into maintaining his bedroom-chic hair.

And though Morpheus probably isn't the biggest fan of intimacy with just anybody, you, on the other hand, are a glimmering exception.

In fact, he's so accustomed to your touch that he barely notices when your hand ever so slightly brushes a fleck of dust out of his hair.

You're in the library, helping Lucienne, sorting through books, considering the place went upside down after Morpheus left. And it takes five minutes of inner frustration before you finally flick it out.

Everything seems to stop. Morpheus freezes for a moment, then silently just walks away.

Later, Lucienne explains how particular he is about his hair, for some reason. you're relatively new to knowing Morpheus in comparison, so you just accept it.

The next few weeks, you make a conscious effort not to touch his hair. If you hug him, you'll put your arms around his neck, careful to avoid his eternal bed head.

On the other hand, Morpheus is literally burning inside. Fine, so his pride and joy is his mussed-up hair, but he can't forget the feeling of how tenderly you touched him.

So the next time he sees you, and you're lying in bed, he decides it can't go on. In the purest way, Morpheus wants to be touched. It's been over a century of every type of deprivation in that damned burgess glass.

You're lying down, and he nuzzles into you almost, like a cat. Absentmindedly, and half asleep, you stroke his head ever so slightly. Then your sense hits you, and you retract your hand as quickly as you can.

But he grabs your hand halfway, and you turn to look at his eyes that are oh-so-pleading, and your heart warms to its core.

He hesitates. "I like when you... when you do that."

"You like when I touch your hair?"

Almost childlike, almost uncharacteristically, he nods. It's strange to see Morpheus so generally cold and firm, now so soft.

You're almost grateful to see this side of him. He's beautiful, always, and you take him into your arms. He rests his head across your stomach, and you run your fingers through his hair. He makes a mental note to ask you to do this more often.

From then on, you rarely stop. In public, at first, you're mindful not to touch him, or his hair much.

After all, the King of Dreams and Nightmares has a reputation to uphold.

But whenever he's in your arms, whenever you play with his hair, he turns into putty. It doesn't take long for Lucienne to walk into the throne room one day to find the two of you in the same position.

"Oh, Matthew would love to hear about this," she thinks.

You almost convince him to let you braid it.

"It must be long enough!"

"Absolutely not."

You're not sure if this King of Dreams sleeps, but the few moments you have when he's closing his eyes, you take advantage of by threading daisies between his dark locks.

Morpheus, of course, is entirely awake. But he loves you, and he enjoys the personal attention. It's not always he gets pampered, so he'll keep his mouth shut. For now.