#tamon headcanons

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ : Tamon x Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 678

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ : tamon does not have social anxiety mode activated with you

ᴘʀᴏᴏғʀᴇᴀᴅ? : nope, from the scratch

ᴀ/ɴ : This one Is for you dear Tamon lover (I'm grinding rn, might post a one piece imagine later loll)

Heyya check out masterlist

The reason you ended up on Tamon’s bike?

Simple.

You owed him a favor.

It started with a text.

“I need you to pick something up for me. Now.”

No “please.” No explanation, Just pure Tamon energy!

You’d promised you’d help him out whenever he needed it, something about him covering for you when you’d ditched class to see that new movie.

“Ugh, fine,” you mutter, typing back a confirmation before shoving your phone in your pocket.

The pickup spot was on the other side of town. Far enough that walking would take an hour, too far that buses didn’t run this late.

And of course, you’d forgotten your own bike at home.

You’re standing on the curb, tapping your foot and wondering if you can convince a stranger to give you a ride, when you hear it.

The familiar sound of tires on asphalt.

You turn.

Tamon’s bike skids to a stop right in front of you.

“Get on,” he says, not even looking at you as he adjusts his grip on the handlebars.

“Wait, you said I had to pick it up myself!”

“Changed my mind. The place closes in twenty minutes. Hop on.” he pointed his head on the backseat of his bike

And that’s how you ended up here.

On the back of his bicycle.

Cruising through the quiet evening streets as the sun paints the sky orange and purple.

“Did you really have to wear sandals?” Tamon asks, glancing back for half a second before focusing on the road again.

“They’re comfortable!”

“One wrong move and you’ll slip right off the pedals.”

“I’ll be careful!”

You shift your weight, trying to find a good position, and promptly lose your balance, wobbling sideways.

“HEY!”

Before you can even react, Tamon’s reached back with one hand to steady your arm, his grip firm. (Hwjwjskwjow)

“Stay still, will you?” he snaps, but his voice is softer than usual.

“Sorry,” you mumble, gripping the edge of his shirt.

A few minutes pass in silence. The only sounds are the bike’s wheels and the distant hum of traffic.

You lean forward a little, resting your chin on his shoulder without thinking.

“…What are you doing?”

“Tired,” you yawn. “Your shoulder’s convenient.”

“Don’t even think about falling asleep,” he warns. “I am not carrying you.”

“M’not gonna fall asleep…”

You definitely start to fall asleep.

Your eyes drift shut, your breathing slows, and you feel yourself slumping further against him.

Then Tamon hits a small bump in the road, jostling you awake.

“Hey!” he says, a hint of laughter in his voice now. “Wake up. We’re almost there.”

“Just… five more minutes…”

“No. Sit up straight. Or at least hold on properly instead of using me as a pillow.”

You groan but do as he says, though instead of letting go of his shirt, you wrap both arms around his waist, resting your head against his back.

“Better?” you mumble.

He goes quiet for a moment. Then

“…Yeah. Better.”

When you reach the spot, he slows the bike to a gentle stop. You reluctantly let go, sliding off and stretching your legs.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Tamon just shakes his head, but there’s a small smile on his face.

“Next time, wear shoes that make sense. And get more sleep.”

“Next time, just text me earlier!” you call back as you head toward the shop door.

Before you go in, you turn around.

“Hey, Tamon?”

“Yeah?”

“…Can you wait for me? I don’t wanna walk back alone in the dark.”

He adjusts his bike helmet, grinning slightly.

“Of course. But if you fall asleep on me again, I’m leaving you here.”

You know he wouldn’t.

And when you come back out ten minutes later, he’s leaning against his bike, scrolling through his phone, but he puts it away the second he sees you.

“Ready?” he asks.

You hop on the back, wrapping your arms around him again, this time, fully awake and holding on just like he’d asked.

“Ready.”

As you start moving again, you hear him say, almost too quiet to hear over the wind:

“…You can rest your head if you want. Just don’t actually fall asleep this time.”

You smile, pressing your cheek against his back.

“Deal.”