YAYYY alright can we get maybe something fluffy and romantic with him. love you mrs. columbo but we can share 🫶🏼 just play in the space with meee
mrs. columbo please. we'll have him back by 9 i promise. mmm but yes okay! i think this might scratch the itch... even if i did get a tad out of hand <3
The apartment greeted you with the rich, sacred perfume of garlic and Roma tomatoes when you pushed through the door; a scent so thick and welcoming you could physically feel your nerves un-tensing one by one. The late afternoon light slanted through the kitchen window in dusty amber beams, catching motes of flour still suspended in the air, and there he was: your Columbo, haloed in that golden haze, standing at the stove in a frilled apron with Here's cooking at you, kid! stitched across the front in cheerful red thread that had seen better days.
He was stirring something in a battered pot, the wooden spoon moving in lazy, hypnotic circles, and when he turned to look at you. Oh, when he turned — his whole face transformed. That lopsided smile bloomed across his features like sunrise breaking over mountains and valleys of rumpled bedsheets, crinkling the corners of those sharp, coffee-dark eyes. It never failed to wrap something warm and impossibly soft around your heart. His hair was more disheveled than usual from the activity, dark curls rebelling in every direction as though he'd been running his hands through them while he cooked, and there was a smudge of tomato sauce on his jaw that he either hadn't noticed yet or didn't think to smudge off. The sight of him there, domestic and slightly absurd in that ridiculous apron, backlit by dying sunlight and wreathed in the steam rising from dinner, made your chest ache with something too tender for words.
"Hey there!" His voice cut through the fog of your exhaustion like a warm hand reaching into cold water. He set down the wooden spoon with a soft clack against the ceramic utensil rest. "Rough day, huh?"
The question hung between you, gentle and knowing. His eyes, those deceptively sleepy eyes that missed nothing, traced over you with the same careful attention he gave to crime scenes and alibis. "I can tell by the way you're holdin' your shoulders."
The weight you'd been carrying all day suddenly felt heavier under his observation, your body betraying every stress and frustration you'd tried to bury. You didn't even have the energy to ask how he knew. He always knew. It was his gift and his curse, that relentless noticing, but when it was turned on you with such tenderness, it felt like being seen by candlelight. Private, forgiving, familiar comfort.
He wiped his hands on a towel and shuffled over, calloused fingers gentle as they lifted the bag from your aching shoulder. The relief was immediate and physical. "C'mon, sit down." His hand found the small of your back, guiding you with a touch that was both protective and grounding. "I made gnocchi. My mother's recipe, y'know, the one with the— oh, what does she call it..."
He paused, his brow furrowing in that theatrical way that made him look like a confused hound dog, one finger raised as if to pluck the memory from the air. "Ah, well. It's a secret ingredient, anyway."
He tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially, and the gesture was so perfectly, absurdly him that despite all you'd gone through at work today, the weight still pressing on your chest and the exhaustion singing in your bones, you smiled. It started small, just a quirk at the corner of your mouth, but it grew, blooming like something that had been waiting all day for permission to exist. He returned it tenfold, triumphantly smug.
The kitchen was a beautiful catastrophe. Pots colonized every available surface, portions of the countertops painted with the frescoes of splattered sauce, each drop a small monument to his enthusiastic cooking.
But there, rising from the chaos like an island of intention, the table waited. Two plates faced each other across the wood, gold-leaf trims catching the light. Two wine glasses stood sentinel, and between them, a single candle flickered. The flame danced, turning the small dining space into something intimate and hallowed. It was so perfectly representative of him, you thought, your chest tightening with affection. Chaos and thoughtfulness intertwined, disaster and devotion occupying the same space.
"You didn't have to do all this." The words came out softer than you intended, fond and aching, as he guided you to a chair. His hand remained at your back until you were seated, as if he feared you might collapse without his support. Perhaps you would have.
"Ah, well." He scratched the back of his head, those calloused fingers disappearing into the dark curls at his temple and mussing them even further, until they stood at angles that defied both gravity and reason. "I just thought, y'know, maybe you could use somethin' nice tonight. Looks like my gut was thinkin' right."
You sank into your chair like a stone into still water. He moved to the stove, and you watched through half-lidded eyes as he served you a generous portion, the gnocchi tumbling onto your plate in pillowy clouds, each one glistening with butter and flecked with herbs. Steam rose from the food in delicate wisps, carrying with it the scent of garlic and cheese and something indefinably comforting. The smell of being cared for.
He talked the whole time, his voice a steady current you could float on. Something about a witness who kept contradicting himself, story told with that rambling charm that somehow transformed the mundane into the fascinating. His hands moved constantly, never still, punctuating every sentence with gestures; pointing, circling, spreading wide in exasperation or coming together in emphasis.
You lifted your wine glass, the stem cool against your fingers, and took a slow sip. The wine was friendly on your tongue, rich and slightly sweet, and you felt something in your shoulders finally begin to unknot. You found yourself relaxing just watching him; the animated play of expressions across his weathered face, the way his eyes crinkled when he reached the punchline of his story, the unconscious grace in those restless, expressive hands. The tension that had been your constant companion all day began to drain away, seeping out of you like water from a cracked vessel, leaving space for something softer to take its place.
After dinner, he produced a cigar from his coat pocket with the practiced ease of ritual, then paused, the unlit double claro held between two fingers. "You mind?"
You shook your head, and watched as he brought it to his lips. The flame from his lighter cast his face in warm amber, throwing the lines around his eyes into sharp relief, painting shadows beneath his cheekbones. He drew in slowly, the tip glowing with a tiny ember, and exhaled with visible satisfaction. The smoke unfurled between you in lazy ribbons, blue-gray and ethereal in the candlelight, curling and twisting like living things before dissipating into the air. It mingled with the lingering savory aromatics of dinner and something that was purely, distinctly him: the smoky sweetness of tobacco, the bitter comfort of coffee, the soft musk of worn cotton that had been washed a thousand times and worn against his skin just as often.
"C'mere." He gestured with a flick of his wrist, cigar held carefully away, and you rose with him to the couch where he settled languidly into the cushions. He wrapped an arm around you, and you discovered anew what you always forgot until the moment of contact: how solid he was beneath the rumpled exterior, the intensity of his body heat, the contours of his torso. Muscle and bone and one steady, assured presence. You leaned into him, fitting yourself against his side like you'd been carved to match, and your fingers found their way to his hair, threading through those unruly curls. They were softer than they looked, slightly coarse but yielding, still holding the faint scent of his Old Spice shampoo beneath the smoke. He made a contented sound low in his throat, almost a purr, vibrating against your shoulder.
"That's nice." He hummed, his voice gone rough and quiet. "Real nice."
He tilted his head to look at you, and the movement brought his face close enough that you could see the individual lashes framing those sharp, observant eyes. But there was something different in them now, something you only ever saw in private moments like this. Something tender and unguarded, vulnerable in a way that made you want to avert your own eyes. His free hand came up to cup your cheek, palm warm and slightly rough against your skin, thumb brushing along your cheekbone with unexpected gentleness.
"You know I love you, right?" He searched your gaze, squinting slightly in that way he did when he was trying to read something important, looking almost shy about it. His ears were already turning pink.
"I know." Your smile went slow across your face, spreading like honey, and you leaned in expectantly, letting him watch as your eyes sank deliberately to his lips. "I love you, too."
When he kissed you, the world shrank down to the point of contact. He tasted like wine and smoke and basil, like the dinner he'd made with his own hands, and it was perfect. His lips were soft, softer than they had any right to be, unhurried and thorough, moving against yours with an eager sweetness that made you forget every terrible thing about your day. Every deadline, every frustration, every moment of stress simply... ceased to exist. He kissed like he did everything else: thoroughly, attentively, like you were the only detail that mattered, the only case worth solving. His hand slid from your cheek to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, and you felt the slight tremor in them, the barely restrained want. The kiss deepened, grew warmer, and you tasted the wine on his tongue, felt the scratch of his five o'clock shadow against your skin, breathed in the smoke and spice and something underneath that was just nakedly him.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you breathing a little harder, he was smiling that crooked smile, looking a little dazed and drunk on something that had nothing to do with the wine. The tips of his ears had gone from pink to red as tomatoes, the flush creeping down his neck and disappearing beneath his collar.
He raised a brow at you when you chuckled over his appearance, but his eyes were fond, crinkling at the corners. "Feel better?"
And with dinner in you, made all special by a handsome man who had draped himself around you like a lazy dog... you did. You really did.
Tags: Meet cute, dogs, awkwardness galore, infodumping in lieu of conversation, columbo definitely violating whatever case NDA he's supposed to adhere to, pre relationship, canon compliant/missing scene, exchanging numbers, fluff, domestic and sitcom as hell, gender neutral reader, no use of y/n
Summary: An average walk in the park turns into a not-so-average run-in with a certain loveable detective.
A/N: It's stuff like this that reminds me why I'm doing this *long drag off of a cig* @henriksenfreak come get your dinner
Columbo is just such a gentleman, you know? He always says "sir" or "ma'am" and he's never short or churlish. It's exciting to see his brains come out and really mentally screw with the killers when the time comes. When people get impatient and insulting towards him, I flinch on his behalf, but he's incapable of taking anything personally. He is an underpaid, salt of the earth genius with zero ego. And as sweet as a Georgia peach, to boot.
Ohhh hi ily, but i would like to request something from the prompt list thing. :) I think 7. The cereal aisle at 2 AM with Columbo would be funny and cute :)
┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。#7 - The cereal aisle at 2 AM
"Sugar Crash"
Columbo's tiny frame stood amongst the aisles of rainbow-colored boxes, still dressed in his work clothing. His index and thumb tap thoughtfully on his chin, as if in deep contemplation. You've been in the same aisle now for over 15 minutes, the low drone of the fluorescent lights overhead the only audible sound of the near-deserted grocery store.
Being delegated the very important task of pushing the cart, you sleepily march behind your never-tired partner. Attempting to garner just a moment's rest as Columbo peruses the endless cereal options, you prop your head up on your elbow, closing your eyes for a second.
"Uh, which one of these was your favorite again?" His mannerisms never changed, either on or off duty.
"Gee, I can remember what it is, but for the life of me I can't remember the name of it. The one with the little leprechaun guy with the colorful marshmallows, right?"
You yawn, yet nod your head in the universal signal for yes.
He backtracks his thoughts for a minute, second guessing his memory for a moment, before shaking his head no firmly. "No, no that can't possibly be right. Wasn't it somethin'...somethin' with one of those funny little monsters on the cover? The ones that have like a ghost on em', called "boo-berry." See that's pretty clever, love that. I think that was your favorite, actually."
You nod your head again, really not paying too much attention to the words coming out of his mouth. At this point you'd agree to anything to get out of this high fructose purgatory. You can feel your conscious fading out, Columbo's words literally going in one ear and out the other.
He reaches his arm up, fingertips barely grasping the box of "Boo-Berry" cereal. He holds it up, inspecting the box and reading the label as if it was some incredible clue to his latest mystery.
"Would you look at that. 100 milligrams of calcium, ain't that something. Y'know, the doctor is always saying I need to get more calcium in my diet. Something about drinking more milk. Makes the bones strong. Oh and they got 500 grams of Vitamin A, that sounds pretty good to me. Ain't that the uhhh...the vitamin you get from the sun? Huh. Do you happen to know [Y/N}..." he trails off, noticing the way your body awkwardly hunches over the shopping cart in a pathetic attempt at getting some form of rest.
He smiles, one of those soft and sweet smiles that always makes your heart flutter.
aaaaaaaa my brain is producing another thought,,,,imagine playing w columbos hair or him playing w yours 😭 im softttttt
I always picture this happening on off days with columbo, just lazing around the house not doing anything except enjoying each other's company. And you just know he loves getting his hair played with, and always ends up close enough that you can just reach out and run your hands through the big fluff as you're reading something or just watching tv. Sometimes he’ll just straight up lay his head on your lap expectantly.
(i went a little too ham with this, gonna slap on a cut ;’)
He finds it so relaxing and soothing, you’ll just be chilling on the couch together and you're just running your fingers through his hair and all of sudden you’ll hear a little snore and his head will just droop. Honestly it ends up becoming like the best way to help him get to sleep when work insomnia hits
Oh god, and when you're done and he sits up his hair just ends up being a big poofy ball, and he looks so sweet and sleepy that it just makes you laugh. And he’d just grin, big and silly and loving, and laugh right along with you, before giving you a little mischievous look and reaching out to grab you and fuss up your hair too. Like, ‘okay wise guy, lets see how you like it!’
Playing with your hair would be amazing too; despite his hands being big and rough working hands, hes just so gentle and tender. When your leaning against him or being the little spoon or just laying on his chest, he’ll reach out and just stroke your head softly. Pick up a lock and just twirl it in his finger and let it fall back down. I can even see Columbo offering to brush or comb out your hair when you're doing it or right out of the shower. Haha, i can imagine him talking through whatever case he is working on while meticulously parting and carefully brushing out every section of hair. And you’re just like nodding and humming along, enjoying the feeling of it.
See, but all this leads me to thinking about his hands, and im so thirsty for his hands, my god. Like, imagine feeling his hand just on your neck, holding your jaw (that alfred hitchcock ep really fucked me up) while he kisses you. Then it just slides to the back of your neck and tangles up in your hair, and his grip tightens just a bit as things get more heated.
A/N: I noticed the extreme lack of Columbo x Reader fics so decided to try and fix that. It’s not the best, but I tried.
You woke up to the sounds of paper shuffling as your husband grumbled to himself. You heard him lightly push his chair out as he got up to pace, as he usually did when he was thinking. From the light of the full moon shining through your blinds you could just barely make out the time on your clock; 3:24am. You were used to him waking up in the middle of the night, mulling over the loose ends of his mysteries.
“Frank?” You muttered, lazily turning under the covers to face him across the room.
“Don’t worry about me, doll,” Columbo smiled from the other side of the room. “Just go back to sleep. I’ll be back in bed soon.”
“Couldn’t you be back in bed now?” You yawned. You were barely even half awake. “You need sleep, too.”
You could see he was tired, too. Very tired. His eyes were half-closed, his hair a disheveled mess. He hadn’t even bothered to fully change out of his work clothes, his button down shirt half-open, and his tie undone around his neck.
“Yeah, I guess sleep’s important.”
He set his papers aside before taking off his shirt and laying next to you, yawning. You pulled some of your covers over him and closed your eyes. He laid still on his back. It was quiet. Peaceful.
“I just don’t get it...” He mumbled.
“Hm?” You quietly hummed. You barely processed what he even said. It was late.
“Why would he take off his ring in a place as busy as an amusement park?” He said. “Now, if it were our wedding ring, I would’ve either kept it on my finger.. Or, if I were really concerned about losing it, I would’ve put it into my pocket for safe keeping.”
“I’d like to think most people would be careful with their wedding ring..” You glanced at your own ring resting on the nightstand next to you.
“Wait a second..” Columbo mumbled to himself once more. “If the culprit didn’t leave fingerprints they were obviously wearing gloves... Would he be wearing the ring to begin with?”
“Maybe,” you paused to yawn and stretch your arm over him. “Maybe he lost his ring when he took off the glove.”
“That’s it!” He exclaimed. You jumped, startled. “Doll, you are a genius!”
He kissed you fully on the lips before jumping up and writing something down in his notebook.
“We find the glove, we find the ring!”
“Frank, come back to bed.”
“Alright, darling, I’m coming.” He finished up his notes before curling up back into bed with you.
You close your eyes. You were certain he was about to fall asleep, too.
Summary: Your worried heart gets put at ease when Columbo finally arrives home after a long day at work.
A/N: No warnings! This was a request adapted from an Anon a while ago, but it’s a bit sad because post-college graduation energy is a little hard, but it’s pretty fluffy! Also, featuring Dog and a reference to my fave Columbo episode, Etude in Black!
Your eyes slowly flutter open, as headlights from a car pulling in to your driveway reflected off the living room walls. Slowly, your lift your head up, a bit dazed from your current location on the couch. In your exhausted state, you could recognize that it was late. Very late - the television program you were watching had ended long ago, only to be replaced by the black-and-white static of an off-air signal. The living room lights were still on, as your eyes blinked to attempt to adjust to the harsh light.
Your heart jumps a bit, realizing Columbo was still not home yet. While you’re panicked state let you have at least a few hours of rest, the same anxiety before your nap crept back in. You can feel your heartbeat thumping in your ears again.
Where was he?
Dog, who was peacefully sleeping next to you, stirs a little bit letting out a disgruntled “harumpf” as he sighs. Frustrated that you disturbed his peaceful sleep, he stretches out his little sausage body as far as he could, practically kicking you off the couch. For such a small dog, he sure knew how to take up a lot of space. You gave his head an affectionate pet as his eyes drooped once more in content.
The lock to your front door turned as Columbo entered, looking rather disheveled; at least, a bit more disheveled than his usual unkempt appearance. The bags under his eyes were noticeable, now obtaining a purple-ish grey hue to them. His hair was ruffled, most likely to his constant nervous habit of running his hands through it when in deep concentration. He's been smoking cigars more, his nails chewed down to the nub, and barely able to stand upright. been taking care of himself - physically and mentally.
You know how busy he’s been on his recent case. something about a conductor, his wife, and the possible mistress that possibly connects it all together. And a new wrench has just been thrown into the case - an eyewitness testimony that completely destroyed all of his previous thoughts about the culprit.
You lean up, pulling yourself into a sitting position on the couch, a silent invitation to Columbo to take a seat next to you. Wordlessly, you speak to each other with your eyes only. For the first time that day, Columbo and you both smile. A relieved, exhausted smile. He was finally home.
He shuffles off his beige raincoat, moving his way across the room in a few quick strides. Without even the slightest of hesitation, he collapses into you in a exhausted slump. Almost on instinct, you wrap your arms around him, holding him in the comforting embrace you assumed he needed right now, and the one you needed right now as well. Holding him to your body consoled you that he was here, right next to you.
The reassuring scent of his cologne mixed with his signature brand of cigars filled your nostrils, immediately shaking off any ounce of sleep still left in your body. Not really considered to be a rather pleasant mix of smells to most people, but one that is so unequivocally him that put you at ease every time. That this was him, this was your Columbo. He’s home, and that’s all that matters. All of the panic in your heart from earlier dissipates from your body; another night home safe.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” Columbo asks curiously, his voice more gruff than usual, the impact of his exhausted state.
“I was waiting for you.” You ponder this for a moment, realizing this initial plan had failed. “Or, well, tried to stay up as late as I could, I suppose. I wanted to make sure you got home safe. Columbo, you had no idea how worried I was.”
He smiles at this; a sleepy, soft smile that's filled with adoration for you, and your kind gesture. He uses one of his large, calloused hands to push back the hair covering your forehead. He gazes into your eyes, still glazed over a bit from sleep, and leans closer, giving quick a chaste kiss on your forehead. How lucky he truly was to have you in his life. While you adamantly would protest his ridiculous notions, he didn’t fully believe he deserved someone as kind as you.
Pulling back from the kiss, he sees your eyes glisten with wetness, threatening to spill over at any moment. His smile falters, a worried look quickly spreading across his features. As the first tear you desperately hold back defies you and spills down your cheek, he pulls you into a tight hug. Letting you bury your face into his chest to let your emotions spill out, Columbo rests his chin on top of your head.
“Shhh sweetheart, hey, what’s this all about? You’re okay, I’m here now.” He strokes your back reassuringly as you bury your face further into his chest. Noticing the clock on the mantleplace stating it was 2AM, he finally realized the gravity of his mistake. He pulls you even closer to him. “Oh, gosh [Y/N], I didn’t mean to worry you, I shoulda called, I shoulda stopped home for a bit.” His heart breaks a bit, listening to your attempts to hold yourself together with small sniffles.
You didn’t mean to get emotional, but with Columbo’s line of work, you could not help your brain to create the most awful worst-case scenarios. Especially during these nights where you’re kept up waiting for his return. You couldn't possibly know where he is, or who he’s with.
“Sweetheart, you know you don’t have to worry about me so much, I promise. I’m safe, I’m okay. I won’t let nothin’ happen to me or you, ever. Okay? There’s a lot of people lookin’ out for us, making sure we’re safe.”
You remain silent for a moment, and he notices your lack of response.
“Okay?” he tries again, drawing out the syllable more dramatically.
“Okay,” you reply in a small, muffled voice, still pressed against his chest. You attempted to make your words sound as convincing as possible, but the warble in your voice probably gave you away. “I’m just glad you’re home safe.”
For all his sweetness and tenderness, Columbo doesn’t understand how hard it can be waiting on the sidelines. How your thoughts often race when he does not return home at his usual time. Sitting next to the phone all night, waiting for the inevitable call from his superiors that the worst has happened. The fears of waking up in the morning without him next to you. How the entire life the two of you have spend years creating together can be uprooted by just one homicidal maniac that was just one step ahead of the usually brilliant Columbo. But even the most brilliant minds can waiver.
Before he left each morning, Columbo always leaves you with a kiss. They are very much unlike the quick, chaste ones he gave you moments before. But instead are ones where he gently tips your head back, gazes deeply into your eyes, and gives you a passionate kiss before he’s off. Not unlike the kisses most couples give to each other before heading off to work.
Yet, these mean more than just a simple kiss between two lovers. Columbo’s kisses before work seal a promise between you - the promise that he will always return home, safe and sound every night. Through whatever weather, whatever situation, wherever he ends up, Columbo will return to you. And you believe him, because he would never lie to you.
He pulls you away from his chest, looking you right in the eyes. He smiles that soft, warm smile again as he uses his thumbs to wipe the remaining tears off your cheeks. You do your best to return a smile for him as he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.
Dog, upset with the lack of attention on his part and possibly providing a much needed diversion from the current emotions of the room, starts pawing at Columbo’s shoulder. His tail wags in excitement, making his entire body swing back and forth with it. For a moment, Columbo removes his arms from you, giving Dog a much needed scratch behind the ears. Dog sticks his tongue out in bliss, panting loudly in Columbo’s face.
“And good evening to you too, sir! Pups like you should be in bed too, last time I checked. It’s late. You wanted to wait up with Mommy huh? Wanted to make sure I got home safe too?” He picks Dog up, setting him down on his lap. He wasn’t a lap dog in the slightest, but Columbo made it work. “That’s a good dog. You keeping [Y/N] company while Daddy’s at work huh? What a smart pup.”
You smile, leaning back onto Columbo’s arm and petting Dog’s back. Columbo leans his head against yours affectionately as well, not taking advantage of the opportunity to give the top of your head another kiss. The three of you, an odd, mismatched family that you wouldn’t trade the entire world for in a heartbeat.
“Well, now that you’re home, I’m sure you haven’t eaten all day. Want me to make you something?” You shift out of his embrace, heading towards the kitchen. “I can make you an omelette or, something like that?”
Columbo groans in bliss, realizing how hungry he actually was. “Yeah, that sounds perfect right about now.” He turns around on the couch, making sure he can see you.
“You’re an actual angel, [Y/N], you know that, right?”
You roll your eyes, giving him a coy shrug. “I do my best,” you smile, as you both lock eyes across the room. Dog leaps off Columbo’s lap, startling the both of you as he scampers over to you, hoping to gather a few scraps for a snack himself.
A/N: This is my little surprise gift for me reaching 400 followers! Highly requested, I’m finally giving it to you. I think this is the highest form of sin I could commit on this blog, but not one, not two, not three, not four, but FIVE anons asked for this. And I am more than willing to provide content to my lovely readers. And who am I kidding, Columbo is hot. 18+ ONLY content below cut, Minors DNI
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Columbo is a very sweet man, in and out of the bedroom, but we already know this. So he’s incredibly kind and thoughtful with his aftercare, always pulling you close to him in a protective embrace. Your safety and pleasure is of the utmost importance to him.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
For Columbo, his favorite body part of his is his hands; rough and calloused from years of hard work. So much of his physicality is spoken through his hands, so it’s natural that most of the way he interacts with the world is through his hands as well. He loves the way to react to his touch, and he can’t help but trace the outline of your curves each time as if it’s his first. Just, all the different reactions and sounds he can get out of you from his touch alone drives him wild.
On you, Columbo can’t pick a favorite part. He thinks you’re just absolutely gorgeous inside and out; so he would pick the easy way out and say everything about you is his favorite. But if you cornered him against a wall and said he had to pick something, he would say your lips.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He's a gentleman, and prefers to cum inside of you, if that is okay with you. Columbo doesn’t like getting you messy, he thinks that can be demeaning even if you’re okay with it. There are just...certain things in the bedroom he will not do because he drinks that respecting women juice. He’ll use protection of course (but I also think he’s got a bit of a breeding kink...more on that later) so that you are practicing the safest sex possible. He just loves your bodies to be the closest they can possibly be when you reach your shared climax.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Columbo has a hard time verbally expressing what he wants in the bedroom, as he gets easily flustered and tongue-tied when he tries to bring anything up. So you’re a bit more in charge in the bedroom that he is, but it takes the pressure off of him after a long day at work. But one time, he wishes he could come into your bedroom and see you lying there, completely naked with just his trenchcoat over your body. Columbo thinks he would just faint right there if you ever did that.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He does not seem to be the person that knows too much about sex, because he doesn’t seem to be the person that engages in one night stands, or in like casual flings either. Not to mention how easily flustered he is when a girl flirts with him, or if he intrudes on an undressed lady. In Columbo’s eyes, sex is something that comes long after the first acts of traditional courtship - he wants to get to know you first before taking you to bed. So his partners have been far and few between, but with the knowledge he acquires about you, your likes, dislikes, energy, etc. he’ll be able to translate that over to the bedroom as well.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Any position in which he can see you’re beautiful face. He wants to watch every reaction to his touches, and watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head and lips part in a moan. If his brain could take a snapshot of that image to come back to anytime, he would be one happy person.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Columbo doesn’t take sex too seriously, but I don’t mean that in a negative connotation. He just knows that real life sex isn’t the same as it is in the movies. It’s messy, sometimes awkward, and little mishaps will happen from time to time. Sometimes you’ll whack your head on the baseboard, another time Columbo’s hands will fumble and fumble with your braclip until you’ll have to give him a hand, or Dog will just burst into the room unannounced looking to play fetch. He keeps the fun and good humor in sex no matter what happens.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
It’s about as wild, thick, and unruly as the hair on top of his head. He doesn’t recognize it as a problem, and just kinda lets it be what it is. However, if you have a preference it’s best to let him know, he doesn’t have any problem shaving it off as needed.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Columbo is a very romantic and soft lover, and wants to feel as close to you as humanly possible during lovemaking. Usually this leads to him wanting to be in a position that he wants to fully see you--to be able to make eye contact with you, watch your every reaction to each of his thrusts. In these moments, he feels like you are the only two people in the world. Columbo wants to make sure he’s making you feel good, that’s what is most important.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Not often, even before he met you. Usually it’s something he does in the shower if he really, really needs a release. But other than that, he has a very controllable sex drive and can wait until he’s able to see you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
It's hard to really pinpoint Columbo’s exact kinks, as he does seem to be much more of a vanilla lover. AND THAT’S SO NICE OF HIM, he is such a sweetheart. Okay but anyways, it’s not technically a kink but he is such a softy for being romanced and when you get all affectionate on him. Like he gets turned on because of how he knows how much you love him.
The true kink he has, is that he does have a bit of a breeding kink. He wants to raise a family with you, and he couldn’t imagine a more fitting mother of his children. The idea of putting a child inside you and watching it grow makes him so excited, so he does everything he can to make it happen.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
The bedroom. Columbo believes that sex is a private act that should only happen when no one else is around. He just thinks it’s the right and proper thing to do. Maybe he’ll do it on the couch, or on his favorite armchair, but it’s always in the comfort of your home or like in a hotel room. Anything outside of it will be answered with a flustered “no” and a firm shake of his head.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
A lot of things. When he’s in the mood, he’s just in the mood. Sometimes you’re just watching TV, and next think you know he’s pushing you down on your back and planting a kiss on your lips. He’s rather spontaneous and it seemingly occurs at random when he’s initiating sex.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Columbo is very vanilla, sorry for you more kinkier people out there. But that is 100% okay!! He wouldn’t be into anything that would degrade you or make you feel less than, so he isn't super into much dirty talk in the bedroom; opting more to kiss and praise you instead. He's absolutely terrified of hurting you, and he would never forgive himself if he did something that left you in pain (even if that’s what you wanted). No degradation, no hitting, nothing such like that will ever enter your sex life.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
As generous of a person Columbo is, he loves giving more than receiving. He loves the noises that come from your throat, the groans and whispers for him to keep going. It makes him want to please you even more. Of course, he isn’t one to turn you down if you want to give him oral as well, but he’ll never outwardly ask you to. But, after being with Columbo for quite some time, you can pick up on all his little reactions and telltale signs for when he’s getting a bit needy.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Slow and sensual is his only pace; Columbo loves the way your bodies feel intertwined together, the way your body seems to fit the curve of his perfectly. Like you were made for each other. He enjoys these moments of pure bliss. Why would he want to rush these moments when he can take his sweet time with you, making sure you’re both fully spent and satisfied?
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
It happens. Columbo is a busy man with a rather unusual work schedule, so there are times where you might not see each other as often as you’d like to. This often leads to lazy, sleep morning sex when you both wake up, him thrusting into you while you both still are cuddled together under the blankets.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Not really, he’s a very traditional guy. But with a little coaxing on your part, he might be game to try out a new position, or something you’d want to try as long as the both of you consent to it. But he takes a lot of risks on his daily job, so just being soft and safe with you makes him feel most at ease. You are his comfort.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Usually only one round, he can’t go much further than that most of the time. He’s not the most athletic person in the world, and he’s also not a young man anymore. But he’ll always make sure both of you have a pleasurable experience. Usually sex is an all night endeavor leading up to the big event, wining and dining, leading to kissing and cuddling on the couch, finally heading to more heated activities in the bedroom. So there is no reason for more than one round.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
No, he finds them confusing and wouldn’t even know where to start with them. Columbo wouldn’t mind if you use toys yourself if you need some alone time when he’s away, but he knows nothing can compare to the real thing. If you bring it up, he would opt-in to bring a vibrator, or something along the lines of that into the bedroom to try it out. If you tell him it will increase the pleasure for both of you, he’ll be sold on almost anything (within reason).
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
A little bit! He is a bit of a teaser, loves it when the two of you are mutually pining for each other until you can get some time alone. He’ll playfully grab at your thigh in the car, press an intimate kiss to your lips in the middle of the store as you push him away flustered. It never is malicious, Columbo just loves you so much and can’t help himself. And yeah, maybe he’s showing off a bit in public, he’s allowed to.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Columbo is a bit more reserved. He doesn’t make too much noise, but he’s constantly praising you, talking about how good you feel, how much you love him, things like that. When he gets closer to climaxing, he oftentimes gets tongue tied and can’t create coherent sentences anymore, so he’ll just breath heavily and let out the occasional deep moan.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Columbo doesn’t need sex to be happy, he tends to be more attached to the romantic aspects of the acts in themselves instead of the physicality. There are little ways that make him fall in love with you even more than just making love. The way you’ll stay up late at night, making sure he gets home safe. How you’ll always nag him about eating breakfast before going to work. Your hugs, the way you lazily rake your nails across his scalp as he lays on your lap on the couch. Things like that are just as good, if not better than sex to Columbo.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Columbo is a bit more on the smaller side, and can sometimes get a bit self conscious about it. He knows he’s not the most athletic, he doesn’t have the highest stamina, and he's quite short in stature. And sometimes he worries that you might not see him as masculine, or see him as weak or something. Which, of course you don’t, you love every bit of him to death. And you remind him of that every day.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He has a normal sex drive for a guy his age, he’s not out here going at it all day every day. He knows how to control himself, and know that sometimes waiting for the right time to make love is half the fun. Once in a while he’ll get needy for you and has to just have you, but you like it when he’s a bit more assertive like this anyways.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Usually pretty quickly, as these acts usually happen at night. He’ll help you clean up, possibly run you a bath if you want that, and then snuggle up with you. Columbo insists on being the big spoon, wrapping his arms tightly around you and pulling you into his chest.
