#gk Jason Todd

[toddysgirl]

As always GK! Jason Todd is my hot favorite 🙂‍↔️🫶🏻

[theventsoflux]

Jock

College AU

Jock!gkJason Todd x Reader

MDNI

tags: use of profanity MDOM

You weren’t sure what you expected when Jason said, “We’ll go over Eliot at my place.” Maybe some cluttered bro-cave, empty shaker bottles, weights on the floor, maybe even a dusty bookshelf he never touched. What you stepped into was something else entirely. His flat was spotless. All clean lines and dark textures, the floor-to-ceiling windows let in golden afternoon light. Everything smelled like cedarwood, cigs, and something subtly expensive. The whole place had the kind of precision that made your pulse quicken.

Jason locked the door behind you with a soft click. He moved past you effortlessly, barefoot on polished concrete, his oversized back stretching the fabric of his t-shirt like it was clinging on for dear life. Not a tattoo in sight—just muscle, symmetry, and that controlled, almost military presence. He wore a rust-red overshirt, open over a fitted tank that left no question about the size of the man underneath. 6’5”, thick as hell, and everywhere in the room at once.

You swallowed.

Jason turned his head slightly, that sharp jaw catching the light. “People always think I’m one-dimensional. I read. I lift. I clean. I also remember you flinching when I quoted The Hollow Men last week.” He handed you a glass of water, fingers warm against the crystal. “Let’s not waste time. Couch. Eliot. Unless you’d rather get to the part where you find out just how true those campus rumors are.” Your heart skipped. He smirked. “Didn’t think so.”

…

“Come on, baby, suck that dick,” Jason growled, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he caressed your cheek with his massive hand. His hand was huge, as big as your face, and you were struggling with just the head, his extra-long, beer-can-thick cock stretching your lips wide. He grunted as he thrust into your mouth, his hips rolling forward, burying himself in your throat. You choked and sputtered around him, your eyes watering, but he didn’t care. He kept thrusting, his hand tangled in your hair, guiding your head. Then he pulled out, his cock slick with your saliva. He stood up, his tall, muscular physique on full display, his ass and thunder thighs flexing as he moved.

“Ass up on the couch, bitch,” he commanded, his voice low and rough. He grabbed a condom, the big bold letters Custom Oversized emblazoned on the wrapper. He rolled it onto his cock, the snug fit making him groan. His fingers found your entrance, invading your space, and you moaned, your body arching into his touch. “God, baby, you sound so fucking sexy,” he purred, his hand smacking your ass hard enough to leave a mark. You whined, the sting sending sparks through your body. He lined up, positioning himself at your entrance.

“Stop resisting,” he commanded, his voice firm. He smacked your ass again, this time hard enough to leave a handprint. “I’m going to fuck you so good, bitch,” he growled, his cock nudging your entrance. You moaned as he pushed in, inch by inch, his thick cock stretching you wide. It took a while—he was just too big—but he didn’t care. He didn’t stop until he was buried to the hilt inside you, his hips pressed tight against your ass.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy is crazy tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. You came twice before he could even think about finishing in you, your body shaking and trembling around him. He pulled out, the wet sound of his cock leaving your pussy filling the room. He grabbed another condom, rolling it on quickly.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled, his eyes dark with lust. He flipped you over, hands roaming, body pressed to yours, and you were already rubbing your clit again, desperate and soaked, ready for more.

…

You were curled against one end of the massive sectional, Jason’s overshirt draped over your body. Your hair was mussed, your breathing still trying to catch up. He sat beside you with his arms stretched along the back of the couch, one thick thigh bouncing lazily, like he hadn’t just rearranged your entire existence.

His shirt was gone, revealing a torso that looked engineered in a lab—broad, powerful, not a single mark or tattoo to soften the impression. Just clean skin, hard lines, and that impossible presence. You watched the shadows dance over the ridges of his abs as he sipped water. Even now, post-everything, the outline in his sweats made your stomach flip.

“That thing should be registered as a weapon,” you mumbled, voice hoarse.

Jason smiled without looking at you. “Then you should’ve called for backup.” You gave a dazed laugh, dragging a hand down your face. “You’re not real.” He looked at you now, expression softer. “Still think I need to prove I know my poetry?” Jason leaned in slightly, brushing your knee with his massive hand. “Next time, bring Yeats.”

[devilsworks]

Drew GK Jason in one of his scrapped designs! I actually love this design sm I hope they make it canon!

[m1epes]

I feel like GK!Jason is the type of guy who needs to be in his girls tight cunt when he sleeps. The world’s so rough and cold he just needs to be inside his girls soft and warm cunt. He loved it so much he always finds himself rutting into his girl before going to bed or waking up. Either that or he needs to have his dick between his girls ass although it just “doesn’t feel the same” according to Jason.

God forbid his girl needs to get up and do something. Jason will genuinely crash out, wakes up almost immediately as he feels you’re not around his cock, this man will find you near the door and jump at you. Safe to say you will NOT be sleeping for the rest of the night.

[wendydoodles]

You don't like his face? Okay more face for me then! I like his face a lot :)

[miyuuthegreatest]

Random thoughts.. but I always think Jason is the type to finish his partner's food if they are full.

[zenyyyluvyuu]

Just the two of us

(maybe series) special 103 followers! :D

[ jason todd x civilian baker! reader]

Author note: kinda ooc I'm sorry 😔

Warning: blood, heavily injured, curse words, broken english 💔

It starts with this guy who keeps coming to buy some bread in your bakery. You learn that his name is jason, he has some white streak on his hair and a scar on his face.

But you weren't scared nor give him a judging look. You give him a smile, Sincerely. That makes his chest feel warm. How soft you gaze at him. How he sees you helping some old folks with a heavy bag.

Now he wonders how did someone like you survive in this gotham city?

____

Now he doesn't know if he's really at his safe house, all bloody and in pain. He didn't take off his helmet as he stumble from the window. He fell on the ground with a loud thump.

He just stayed there on the ground, his breath was labored. Blood drawing the floor. He didn't realize that he wasn't in his safe house. But you

You awake from the loud sound of someone falling on the ground, you rub your eye to Remove the sleepiness on you.

Did you forget to lock the window? Did some thief get in? You frown, you get up from your bed as you take a bat. (For your safety)

You slowly, quietly tiptoed where the sound came from. When you arrive.

You blink.

Is that redhood bleeding on the floor or are you just hallucinating?..

You lower the bat you just hold, toss it somewhere far, not loudly. You slowly get closer to the bloody man. Kneeling in front of him.

His clothes were torn off and there was blood everywhere.

"uh.. hello..?" You tried to call him if he was still alive. You poke his helmet. Sweat running through your temple. "Are you dead?.." you ask again only to get a response of groan from the man.

You watched. Okay still alive, You look at his wounds. The wounds were not that deep but managed to make him lose blood.

You get up to get a med kit in your bathroom. When you come back, you take a pillow from the couch and slip it on his head. You didn't take off his helmet because, there's no blood coming out of it.

You slowly take off his clothes, leaving him shirtless, you can't lie but there's so many old scars littered on his body. It must be hurt so bad. You sigh.

So he was just attacked at his body, you gently and carefully worked at his wounds.

He hissed at the alcohol you just damp it into his wounds. Time skip, finally you're done bandaging his wounds.

He breathed slowly, up and down. Okay what do you do now?.. there's redhood in your apartment

Hmm you can't let him rest on the cold floor, so you manage to drag him on your couch. Damn he was heavy. What did he eat? Rock?

You let out a sigh of relief as you finally put him on the couch. He didn't stir nor awake. You take a glass of water and painkillers on the coffee table. Thinking that when he was awake he could take a drink off the water and then the painkillers.

You even drap a blanket on him to keep him warm. With that your job has done. You sit up beside him giving him a space. You gaze at his red helmets.

He already has this Munch scar, does his face have too? Your mind wanders about how he will look if he takes off his helmet.

A pained groan makes you snap from your daydream, you look at him. The redhood Has moved a little, his muscles flexing. Damn.

He suddenly jolted up from the couch, sitting straight. He looked everywhere, processing his brain. Where is he.

And then his head movement now on you. You blinked. There's a pregnant silence between you two.

"how the hell-" "before you could finish, let me get this straight. One you stumble in the wrong apartment. two you're hurt, i have to treat your wounds. And three i didn't take off your red helmet."

You hold your hand in a surrender, but you're not scared at all, you just want him to know that you didn't have any Bad intentions on him.

His shoulder has been tense for a while, relaxed. Oh

He thought he was already at the right place but he was mistaked. He didn't think it was your place. The cute baker that he has been buying sweets from before.

Shit. He was doomed.

He let out a frustrated sigh, he elbowed his knees, muscles tensing, the pain is still there. He let out a hiss.

"I'm sorry."

...

What

Did you hear that right?

The redhood apologizing? He notices your expression. "What? Can't I apologize?" His voice was rough. You give him a small smile. "Didn't know redhood can apologize." You joked. He just stared.

"take the water i put on the coffee table, and also a painkiller to lower the pain" you point at the stuff you just say at the table. He follows your point.

And then back to you. Like he's processing whenever he should do or not. "There's no poison i swear" you shrug.

He sigh. He takes the glass of water and painkillers, and when he is about to take off hiss helmet, he stares at you.

"not a glance at this"

"yep yep i know"

With that you turn your back at him, didn't even look at him. He then takes off his helmet and drinks the water and also the painkillers.

When he's done, he lets you look at him after Putting on his helmet again. Now that he's wide awake, he crosses his arm.

"soo.. are you planning to stay here? Or-"

"I'll just stay here till the pain is lowered"

"okay cool, I gotta go back to bed. See ya"

With that You have been on your bed, sleeping. Because tomorrow will be a busy day for you.

Seeing that you were knocked out. He silently observes you, he plops back to the couch. Maybe a little rest won't hurt.

_______

The next day, you awaken by the sound of alarm on your phone. You take the phone to turn off the alarm. Is now for you to start the day. You stretch your arms and legs.

Feeling refreshed from the sleep but your mind still lingers to redhood. You stood up from the bed and began to walk out of your bedroom.

The redhood was gone, leaving a new lock with a note on the table and an empty glass with less painkillers. You let out a sigh, as you expected.

You take the new lock to your hand, inspecting it. You read the note. 'better lock your window next time.' you huffed. That's kinda rude.

With that the day starts the same, you shower, eat breakfast, Make a lunch box and go. You didn't forget to lock the door.

Gotham was busy like usual. Walk through the street, till the bus stop.

When you arrive at your own bakery shop. You prepare the baked sweet, clean up the bakery and ready for the shop to be opened.

The shop was like usual. Customers buy some bread, sweet. Giving some old folks advice on what cake they should be choosing for their son, daughter, grandchildren, nephews and relatives.

The day went really well. There's no customer, It was about time for you to eat lunch. But as you open the lunch box.

There's a bell jingle ringing as the door opens.

You pause mid-action opening your lunch box. You let out a sigh of exasperation, sometimes this customer doesn't let you take a break in peace.

But what else can you do? they also give you money to survive.

You Close the lid of your lunch box again, already preparing to show the customer your best smile.

Oh

It was him again.

"the usual?"

"you know me" he smirked.

You huff as you make his usual order. Wrapping it up, and give it to him. He give the money, you take it to give him the change. But he has already move.

"hey! You forgot your change!" You yell.

"keep it, Just consider it as a tip!" He wave a hand at you. And just walked away without looking at you.

You blinked. You look back at tha money he gave you, Twenty dollars. And back to the door, where he has just left.

You let out an exasperation, at least he kinda nice.

With that you go back to the back, to continue to eat your lunch.

Your mind wonder to the redhood, Memory Still fresh from last night. How can he has so many scar on his body? Especially the autopsy scar.

Uh

With that your day Continue as usual.

__________

The night come quickly. Your bakery was closed Thirteen minutes ago. You were sweeping on the floor, some teenager manage to left a lot dust at your bakery.

Tonight was peace, it's really rare for gotham to have peace.

You sigh, you put the broom to it's place, preparing your bag, anything that you shouldn't miss.

And then finally, you lock the bakery door. and walk to your usual rote. you didn't know but you feel a sudden chill. the night was colder that the last time.

you ignore it, cuz gotham was always like that. but you didn't know that you were being watched. by who?

by him, redhood.

he just watch you go and followed. not even revealing himselft. he just watch. just for protection.

with that you return home safely. locking the door with a new lock that the redhood give it to you.

he watch from a far. waiting. for something that might be a danger near by. but there's none.

and within a minute he left. Just like that.

Finally I finished it hueheueheuhe, I'm sorry that I have been unactivated, I'm so busy 😔😔

I hope that you like my cringe maybe series 🔅

[dcextremefan]

The Writer - Gotham Knights Jason Todd x reader - Part 2

Warning: same as the part 1, by the way, read the last chapter and also use of remedies (do not repeat the same actions as the protagonist, go to see a specialist/doctor when you start to feel bad phisically or emotionally)

After the Red Hood saved you and you posted about it on your blog, you got tons of likes from thousand of people who lives in Gotham. You were laying in your bed moving your legs excitedly and then you received an email. An anonymous email.

Your smile faded and then you send a copy of an archive to this email and closed it, you started to feel your heartbeat go faster and a little bit of dizziness.

"God... for how long will I still do it?" you asked to yourself "what would father do?"

You get up of your bed and goes to the bathroom and looked at your reflection at the mirror, you opened the high balcony and you took a pill. A tear fell of your eye, but you quickly wiped it off with your hand. You grab your notebook and placed on your desk and you finally sleep.

Something you did not notice it's a vigilante who is watching you from afar. Red Hood watches you fall asleep and he enters through you apartment's window and starts inspecting everything.

"Belfry, I've entered into (Y/N)'s apartment" Red Hood informed quietly to not wake you up

"okay... that's kinda weird, I hope we'll never do it again. I don't want us to get reputation as a stalker" Tim has said

"Tim, don't worry. We are just investigating. And Jason, try to find at least some clues about (Y/N)'s life" Barbara demanded

"don't you think that's invasion of privacy?" Dick asked

"what Jason has said to us earlier got my attention. Why would some random thugs assault a normal civilian writter?" Barbara answered

"not just any writter. A very famous writter, maybe they were just after her money, after all she sells books" Tim suggested

"anyway, what did you find, Jason?" Dick asked

"nothing special, she loves drinking a lot of tea and... hmm" Jason stopped "she uses remedies to control anxiety"

"have you checked in her computer?" Barbara asked

Jason went to see in your computer, but it needs password, he buffed

"belfry, her computer needs password" Jason informed

"the one who can discover passwords so easily is Babs" Dick informed

"unfortunately I cannot discover the password right now, but I had an idea. Tim, you with me?" Barbara asked

"you know it" Tim answered

Jason started to search more about you in your apartment and he finds a portrait of you inside of your locker, it's you in a graduation uniform with a woman who is older than you.

"I found a portrait of (Y/n) with a woman who might be her mother. Not only that, she is wearing the graduation uniform and it says 'Chemistry College'" Jason has informed

"wait what? No no no, she always put on her bio that she is graduated at Literature, how can she lie about something like that?" Tim asked surprised

"we'll find out" Jason said

TO BE CONTINUED...

[webshootersandwingdings]

GOTHAM KNIGHTS 🦇

[pidgeeepombo]

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°Reading with Jason Todd would be like you both in the bedroom, you sitting on the bed with your little book and your headphones in the maximum volume while he is with his head resting on your legs while he is reading his own book, you both have started a little literature club of two members and decided that every 5 Finishing chapters, you changed the books and made a whole comment section about it, or at least tried to do it, even if you two didn't follow this rule to stripe, since sometimes comfort in the company helped reading, giving much more chapters than planned while both lose the notion of time and time to rest. On coldest days, you snuggle together under the blankets while sharing a good dark fantasy book or jokes and laugh while reading cheesy fanfics of your favorite works and sagas.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Mlist!♡

[toddysgirl]

This so gotham knights jason todd

[theventsoflux]

GK JASON TODD P!Links

MDNI

He’s just so big

Whenever he comes home from a mission

Sparring in the belfry…. goes wrong

Type of shit he sends you

Type of shit he sends you (pt2)

trying to suck him (mlm)

Fucking you after a long night out

Type of shit he sends you (pt3)

[m1epes]

My minds all over the place but!…

GK!Jason is the type to worship pudgy girls in bed like…what started off as cuddling nude under the sheets because it’s the dead of winter (since Gotham is based off NJ) its freezing slowly turns into a sloppy make out session with her cunt, and then cuddle sex. Slowly thrusting into his darling girls greedy little cunt as he whispers either sweet nothings in the darkness of their cramped shared apartment. Like I KNOW he’s just such a sweetie in bed and he try’s so hard not to pound into his girls cunt, he just wants to lay in bed all day and kiss her stomach but sometimes he just needs to fuck her to remind her he loves her. :((

[wendydoodles]

The characterization of Jason Todd in Gotham Knights is my favorite. I've loved the character for many years and am glad to see some nuance and for him to be more than just "edgy" and angst driven. He's sensitive, he cares about his family, he cooks, he goes to therapy, and he's built like a fridge. He's perfect, no notes.

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Chapter 1: Ghost In the Machine

The hum of the fluorescent lights in "Byte Me" IT Solutions was a monotonous drone against the backdrop of Gotham's usual cacophony. Rain lashed against the grimy window, each drop a tiny percussionist drumming out a rhythm of misery. Inside, however, misery was a bit more… organized.

I sighed, wrestling with a particularly stubborn strain of ransomware. "CryptoLocker v. 7.3," the diagnostic screen read. A digital venereal disease, if you asked me. Another day, another infected grandma's laptop filled with pictures of her grandkids and a crippling fear that hackers were going to steal her identity.

"Still at it?" My coworker, Mark, sidled over, clutching a lukewarm mug of something vaguely resembling coffee. Mark was a good guy, perpetually optimistic despite working in one of Gotham's less-than-glamorous neighborhoods. Bless his heart.

"You know it," I replied, jabbing at the keyboard. "Think I've finally managed to corner the bastard. Just gotta… there!" The screen flashed a success message. "One less victim of the digital plague."

Mark nodded, then his eyes drifted to the hulking metal beast in the corner, a Frankensteinian creation of salvaged parts and mismatched wiring. "How's the behemoth coming along?"

I followed his gaze. My pet project. My escape. "Slowly but surely. Got the cooling system optimized today. Almost ready to fire it up."

"Planning anything special with it?" Mark asked, his brow furrowed in curiosity. "You've been collecting scraps for months. It's gotta be more than just a souped-up gaming rig."

I shrugged, a deliberately vague gesture. "You could say I'm planning something… big. Something Byte Me isn't equipped to handle."

Mark chuckled. "Well, whatever it is, I'm sure you'll make it sing. You've got a knack for that sort of thing." He wandered off, whistling a jaunty tune that died a slow, agonizing death against the backdrop of the Gotham rain.

He had no idea just how much of a knack.

Mark bid me one final goodbye before pulling out an umbrella and disappearing into the night. No doubt he stops at Nero’s pizzeria before going home to his wife and kids. You watched through the shop window before he disappeared around the corner. Then, you locked the door and reached for the light switch. The fluorescent lights flickered a final, dying gasp before plunging the shop into darkness. I waited a beat, the city's distant sirens a mournful choir. Then, I flipped the hidden switch behind the breaker box, illuminating a small, secluded corner of the shop.

Rain hammered against the grimy windowpanes of my "office," a repurposed storage room tucked away in the forgotten bowels of the shop. The rhythmic drumming was almost hypnotic, a bleak lullaby for a city perpetually on the verge of collapse. I ignored it, fingers flying across the keyboard, the green glow of the monitor painting my face in an unsettling light. Outside, the city's distant sirens formed a mournful choir. Here, the air crackled with a different kind of energy.

"Almost there," I muttered, the words barely audible above the whirring of the ancient server rack humming in the corner. It was a Frankensteinian creation, cobbled together from spare parts and salvaged tech, but it packed enough processing power to crack even the most stubborn encryption algorithms. Laptops with custom OSes, encrypted hard drives, and a tangle of wires snaked across the desk. This was Ghostwire Solutions, my little side hustle. My… outlet.

Tonight's victim, or client – depending on how you looked at it – was a low-level goon. One was a two-bit thug named "Knuckles" Malone; the other, a twitchy character smelling of desperation, Frankie "Fingers" Falcone. Malone's burner phone, or Falcone's data chip containing an encrypted message, was now on the screen in front of me, a jumble of characters that would make most people's eyes glaze over. For me, it was a puzzle. A challenging, if morally questionable, puzzle.

My service, "Ghostwire Solutions," was discreet, to say the least. No flashy neon signs, no online presence, just word-of-mouth referrals whispered in dimly lit back alleys. I was a ghost, a digital shadow flitting through the city's underbelly, connecting people. That's how I liked to justify it anyway. I cracked my knuckles and went to work. My fingers danced across the keyboard, feeding the encrypted text into a series of custom-built algorithms, each designed to exploit a specific vulnerability. Hours melted away, marked only by the rhythmic tapping of keys and the soft hum of the custom-built rig in the corner, its processing power gnawing away at the digital lock.

The encryption finally buckled. A cascade of decrypted data flooded the screen. I scanned through it, a jumbled mess of texts, voicemails, location data, or a simple message detailing a meeting point and time. Mostly dull stuff about late payments and turf wars, the mundane reality of Gotham's criminal element. I extracted the relevant information.

"Alright, Frankie," I muttered to myself, copying the decrypted message onto a clean file. "Just connecting people. That's all I'm doing."

I packaged the data into a neat little file, added a hefty markup to my initial quote, and sent it off via an encrypted channel. Within minutes, the agreed-upon sum, a few hundred cold, hard dollars, landed in my untraceable digital wallet. I saved the file to a new data chip and packaged it up. Another job done. Another night closer to sanity's breaking point.

"Just connecting people," I repeated, the phrase tasting like ash in my mouth. The lie tasted even worse. I knew what I was doing. I was enabling crime. I was greasing the wheels of Gotham's underbelly. But bills had to be paid. It was a convenient lie, a way to sleep at night knowing I was profiting from the chaos. But tonight, it felt particularly hollow. And honestly, did it really matter? Gotham was already drowning in darkness. What was one more drop?

Gotham was a broken city, a machine grinding down its inhabitants. The system was rigged, the rich got richer, and the poor fought over scraps. I wasn't exactly helping to fix things. But I wasn't making it worse, right? I was just a cog in the machine, a necessary evil. I was good at what I did, damn good. I could see patterns where others saw chaos. I could exploit vulnerabilities, both in code and in the systems of power that held Gotham hostage. It was a skill, a talent, and in this city, unique talents were currency. I was efficient and discreet. But every decrypted message, every bypassed firewall, chipped away at something inside me. It hollowed me out, leaving me a ghost in my own life, a wire connecting the darkness.

I leaned back in my creaky chair, the rain still pounding against the window. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and melancholy. Another night, another decryption, another small victory against the futility of existence in Gotham. The flicker of conscience, that annoying little spark that refused to be extinguished, flared again. Was I really making a difference? Or was I just another parasite feeding off the city's decay?

I closed my eyes, trying to silence the questions. Tomorrow, there would be another encryption to crack, another connection to make. And I would be ready, Ghostwire ready to disappear into the digital ether, another ghost in the machine, until the next signal came. As I waited for the morning, for the return of the fluorescent lights and the mundane reality of "Byte Me" IT Solutions, I wondered if one day, the darkness I trafficked in would finally claim me completely. Because in Gotham, survival was a code all its own, and I was fluent in its language. And frankly, some days, that didn't seem like such a bad deal. For now, that was enough.

[alternianfantasy]

Gotham Knights Jason Todd Appreciation

I know we're all used to floppy haired angsty Jason, but Bruiser lemon-chicken eating, wallet chain wearing, goofy ahh military haircut Jason has! Potential! Put some respect on this man, for Christs sake! Maybe some of y'all are too young to truly understand what this specific brand of metrosexual East Coast white boy entails! Artist

ABSOLUTELY lets you pluck and shape those brows when ur alone.

You help this poor man with his skincare. Moisturizing those scars will help them be less stiff!

Will pretend not to be into your reality TV show but ends up watching over your shoulder 9/10 times.

He's your lil fuckin' dress up doll. I'm so serious. Man has a New Jersey straight guy understanding of style but will happily wear the stuff you buy him.

CAN BE TALKED INTO GETTING A PEDICURE. Not all out with colored polish or anything, but getting your shit trimmed and scrubbed and clean feels nice, though he will never admit it. Not even to you.

This man goes to a barber. Not a stylist like Dick or Babs would, or a supercuts like Tim. Jason gets his hair cut in the East End by Someone's Uncle. That's hot.

OR maybe you do it, if you're good with a pair of clippers. Nothing is more intimate than doing ur man's hair.