ᯓ★ RAGE BAIT
♯┆ [jason todd x ragebait!reader] INCLUDES.ᐟ
⤿ JASON TODD is used to just ragebaiting people. That is.. until he starts dating you, and you not only ragebait but get successfully baited by everyone who so much as breathes the wrong way.
!! fluff. lowkey based on a goofy ass idea. silly. established relationship. gender neutral reader. jason todd loves you a lot. violence. strong language. no real warnings it's just silly.
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The traffic would not move, a long, brutal line of tail lights bleeding red into the afternoon haze, and you could feel panic and frustration building in your chest the way a storm swells at sea. Jason kept both hands on the wheel, expression patient in that lazy, amused way he had when you tightened your jaw over things that outraged you, but you were watching the clock on the dashboard like it was a cruel joke and every minute ticked away your chance to make it back in time.
You had promised to be home for your niece’s kindergarten recital, a small thing and utterly important, and for reasons that mattered more than a calendar appointment the idea of missing those five minutes felt like failing something tender and inconsequential all at once.
A delivery truck crawled ahead, a construction van sat stalled in the left lane, and some inattentive driver three cars up had decided that inching forward like a turtle was their personal protest against progress, and you rubbed your hand along the steering wheel until the leather warmed under your palm. Jason glanced at you, an eyebrow raised in sympathetic amusement, and you tried to force a grin that bled away as soon as you saw the driver behind you lay on his horn with the thin, impatient blare of someone who thought the world owed him speed.
The horn shrieked again and again, a mechanical accusation, and before you could think it through you shoved your arm out the window and gave him the exact, obscene gesture that felt like the only honest punctuation for how you felt.
You heard muffled yelling almost immediately, a string of angry syllables carried by the open window, and the sound hit you like a dare. You snapped the car door open before Jason could say anything, shoulders already coiled, jaw set, and you swung your legs out with the kind of motion that meant you intended to move fast and hard.
“What is your problem?” you barked, voice sharp and ready, stepping forward with your hands flying into the air besides you because there was no time to fumble with politeness.
Jason watched you for a heartbeat, his mouth twitching at the corner as he tried not to laugh outright, the sight of your fury both ridiculous and entirely familiar to him, and then he dropped his amusement away because the man in the truck had already yanked his door open and was striding out, face red and words tumbling out in a messy, threatening tumble. The other man's anger looked bigger in the street than it had sounded through the horn, and your forward momentum would have put you chest to chest with him in less than a second if Jason had not moved.
He was up before you fully registered his motion, arms wrapping around you from behind with practiced ease, the kind of hold that stopped you without insulting your strength, and he planted his feet to brace both of you against the slight shove of the street.
“Babe,” he said quietly into your ear, voice low and steady, every syllable a soft tether, “don’t do this here.”
You twisted slightly, eyes blazing, wanting to break free and show the man exactly what a person who had been raised to stand up for the small and precious things looked like when she snapped, but Jason’s grip was firm and warm and impossibly patient, and you could feel the tension ease by the barest degree because his hands steadied you in a way words could not.
The other guy strode closer, chest puffed, and the heat of the moment thudded in your ears like a drum, but with Jason holding you back you were forced to breathe, to measure, to choose.
“You know he’s going to think twice if you actually clock him,” Jason grumbled, a soft amusement threading his voice now that the danger felt contained, and even as the corner of your mouth threatened a grin the absurdity of being held like this in the middle of a jammed city street made it impossible not to laugh.
The man kept yelling, and the world felt suspended between your fists and the restraint of the man behind you, but Jason’s presence, warm and unshakable, made the choice for you simple in the end: you stayed, you breathed, and you let the other driver fume and holler himself out while you folded the anger like a piece of paper and let it sit on the passenger seat.
Jason eased his arms from around you, not because he wanted to release you but because the moment had cooled enough for him to be gentler. He tapped your hip with a grin that was half chastisement and half pride. “You were going to make a huge fucking mess,” he said softly, his eyes crinkling. “We both know you’d have loved every minute of it.”
You leaned back into him, forehead resting briefly against the column of his shoulder, and the absurdity of nearly starting a brawl over a honk tugged a laugh from you, small and breathy. “I know,” you admitted, voice low, feeling the fight in your limbs settle into a smolder that would be saved for a more private occasion. "And as much as I want to reverse into his jackass truck, we have to get to the school... now."
Jason kissed the top of your head, the motion as casual and certain as any promise, and he guided you back into the car with a hand at the small of your back.
(Un)Fortunately for Jason, this wasn't something that was reserved for innocent traffic jams.
Later that night, the air smelled of smoke and scraped metal as the first wave of attackers crashed through the warehouse doors, and you didn’t even pause to think.
"This is what we have to deal with?" The one man scoffed out a laugh in reaction to seeing you standing there, and you couldn't help the twitch of your lips.
"Are you fucking serious? You're the ones who are so fucking afraid you have masks on, at least you know whose going to beat the shit out of you." You barked and without hesitation, you sprinted forward, fists clenched, muscles coiled, ready to throw every ounce of yourself at the nearest thug, your anger from the traffic jam earlier still simmering like fuel for the storm.
“Fuck me..” Jason grumbled to himself, already running after you, his eyes scanning the room for openings and weak points. “Don’t just run in!”
You spun toward him, jaw tight, eyes blazing. “Run in? Jason, if I wait, they’re going to—”
Before you could finish, a man swung a crowbar at a terrified bystander, and the sound of wood connecting with metal made your blood boil. You lunged, moving faster than instinct should allow, sending your first attacker flying across the concrete floor with a well-placed punch that rattled his teeth.
“Fuck's sake! Hold on-...” Jason’s voice cut through the chaos, but he didn’t move toward the attacker, he moved toward you, catching your arm and yanking you back just as a second thug came around with a knife.
You twisted in his grip, eyes flaring. “I can handle this! Let go!” you snapped, ready to swing, fists coiled like loaded springs.
Jason’s hold tightened slightly, bracing his weight to keep you steady. “I know you can,” he said, voice low but steady. “But this isn’t traffic anymore. You can’t just flip out at everyone who honks their horn.”
You froze for a heartbeat, blinking in disbelief before a laugh escaped, sharp and breathless. “It feels exactly the same!” you shot back, shaking your head. “Same adrenaline, same rage, just bigger stakes!”
Jason smirked despite the tension, eyes warm, and he loosened his hold just enough to let you pivot but kept himself between you and the nearest attackers. “Yeah, bigger stakes,” he murmured, eyes flicking to a pair of men circling behind a crate. “Which means we have to be smart. Not just fast.”
You huffed, still coiled with energy, and glanced around the room. Every thug that made a sudden move toward the hostages or your flank sent a jolt of fury through you, and Jason’s hands returned to your arms several times, steadying you before you could barrel into the nearest group of attackers.
Finally, when one of the men tried to sneak around behind some machinery, you lunged — with Jason at your side this time, moving in perfect sync, his calm guiding your fire into precise, devastating blows that made every attack count. You still hit hard, still threw yourself into the fray, but with him there, your rage became controlled, almost elegant, every punch and kick a controlled storm instead of chaos.
By the time the last attacker was restrained, your chest heaving, knuckles scraped, and adrenaline still roaring through your veins, Jason dropped his hands from your arms and let you step back. You were shaking, both from exertion and the thrill of battle, and he reached for your shoulder, brushing the sweat-soaked strands of hair from your face.
“See?” he said quietly, voice teasing but proud. “You’re unstoppable when you don’t try to take the whole world out at once.”
You blinked, letting out a shaky laugh, the tension easing from your shoulders just enough to grin. “Unstoppable, huh? I’ll take it,” you admitted, finally letting yourself sink onto a crate nearby, still catching your breath. “But next time, I’m not letting anyone honk at me in traffic or in a nasty warehouse, got it?”
Jason chuckled softly, brushing a finger along your knuckles with a gentle touch. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, leaning against the crate beside you. “And maybe next time, we save the rage for the really big guys.”
You smirked, letting the fire inside you simmer rather than burn out. “Maybe,” you said, voice low but playful, “..no promises."
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