The perfect Date
characters: Dieter Hellstrom, Marc Schrader, Robert Frost, Woland
warning: gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, smoking, age gap, possessive behaviour, blood, no use of Y/N
Summary: Each of your partners had a slightly different idea of the perfect date. They wanted to use this to give you what you deserve, since they could call you their own. So how will they win your heart with a special experience?
Word count: 2025
Disclaimer: This is not meant to glorify anything; it is a work of fiction based on Tarantino’s freaky film.
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Dieter
He placed great importance on things being just right, on everything being in order, and could perhaps be a bit too perfect, even pedantic. On a day like this, when he invited you out on a date, everything had to be perfect – even if you’d been in a relationship for a long time.
Right from the start, he’ll have arranged for a chauffeur to be there for you; the black Cadillac is parked in front of the house’s entrance.
Dieter greets you with a slight bow “You look enchanting, mein Herz” his praise flatters you; he takes your hand, a gentle kiss on the back of it as he leads you to the car and helps you in before he walks round the vehicle to get in himself.
The first stop on their outing is breakfast against the Paris skyline; it was no trouble for him to hire the rooftop terrace just for the two of you.
“Nothing is too good for you; after all, you’re my love” he replied to your concern about the circumstances and costs, pulling out the chair so his love could sit down.
Hellstrom had arranged for your favourite breakfast to be served, sweet champagne opened with a pop.
The view of the Eiffel Tower, his contented gaze as he looked at you, and just one of many destinations to come.
Dieter accompanied you back to the car with a kiss after breakfast; the next stop was the opera house... perhaps somewhat selfishly, he did appreciate good music, yet another sold-out hall, a private string recital.
His hand holding yours, him smoking a cigarette on the side whilst your and his favourite sonatas were being played.
“Sie spielen hervorragend” he praised briefly as you had hooked your arm through his, your fingers brushing over his, enjoying the pleasant atmosphere as the classical music played.
The day was not over yet, however; on the contrary, to satisfy the hunger of late afternoon and early evening, one of the fine restaurants was the destination.
The somewhat secluded room, the wooden door with its glass inlay, kept the sounds of the other guests at a distance from the two of you.
“I took the liberty of using your records and a book” he said, gesturing towards the gramophone and the dark leather book he had placed on a small table.
The meal, freshly prepared and served on a porcelain plate, accompanied by the dark wine, mirrored your satisfied sigh.
“I’ve had dessert brought up for later” he said with an almost excited twinkle in his eye, a manner that hardly suited the otherwise strict and rule-abiding man sitting before you.
After dinner was over, once his heavy coat had been taken off and he had settled down on the sofa in the room, he patted the spot beside him,
a gentle command to which you, slightly exhausted from the day, complied; the apple strudel was served.
Hellstrom put on the record, your favourite song played softly, and he reached for your book as you leaned against him, savouring the warm apple strudel sprinkled with powdered sugar.
“A perfect experience for the perfect person by my side” he murmured as his calm voice began to read from the book, and thus ended the evening of the date.
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Marc
The young man had never really given much thought to such things; ever since they’d been together, his life had been a mix of your pleasant moments and the terrifying, thrilling incidents of his life as a detective.
However, when he realised that the late nights, the rushed meals and the cases weren’t doing either of you any good, he decided to take you on a date...in his own way.
Berlin was always lively, never sleeping.
“Not stuffy and posh, but our first meeting” he whispered, the truth hanging between them like the cigarette between his lips, his hand holding yours.
Cool on that evening when he took you with him to the club on the night before both of you graduated from police training.
Marc led you through the long, dark entrance hall; the loud, bass-heavy music inside boomed in both your chests as the flickering light surrounded you.
“Enjoy our love!” he said loudly over the music so you could hear him as you joined the crowd of dancers, the mix of smoke, the soon-flowing alcohol, the endless bass of the music.
The DJ, from his booth, gave those seeking distraction what they had come to the club for.
Marc’s hands on your body, holding you as you both lost yourselves in the music.
The kisses along your neck, the smile on his lips as he saw your joy.
Leading you through the crowd, pushing your way through, the cool beer in his hands as you both disappeared into the back exit of the club.
The music could be heard faintly beneath you as you climbed the iron staircase to the roof of the old factory building.
“We don’t have to run away this time” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, his gaze shifting from you to the dark sky lit by stars and the moon.
A smile played on your lips as you took one of the bottles; the harsh alcohol felt pleasant that evening as you leaned against the dark-haired man.
Their gaze swept over the capital; the lights in the distance suggested the city wasn’t asleep, but awake - just as awake as the two of you were as his hand held yours, tracing small circles.
“We need peace and quiet like this in our job...god, sometimes you just need to switch off” he muttered to himself; the kiss you gave Marc on the cheek brought the smile back to his lips.
At least they had each other; they didn’t need a present or a dinner, just the place that had brought them together, the stillness of the night.
The knowledge that they had each other when it came down to it in their demanding job was confidence enough. So every moment of calm seemed to turn into a little date.
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Robert
For someone like him, planning the perfect date was something he didn’t take lightly.
The possibilities of what could have gone wrong, or what might ruin everything at the last minute, were endless.
Besides, his skills lay in hacking – something almost unstoppable on the internet…but a date was a completely different matter.
When you turned up at his house at midday, seeing you, the smile on your lips as you saw him, made his worries fade away, at least a little.
“How lovely that you’re here, come in” he said, stepping aside and letting you into the place that held so many of his memories.
The record player, the record he’d put on, played softly from the living room as he helped you out of your jacket.
“That really wasn’t necessary” he said as you handed him the small box of chocolates; it wasn’t just his favourite sort, but also his mother’s – a woman who no longer held the top spot in his life.
Following his gesture, you stepped into the familiar living room; of course, the furnishings looked old, having witnessed decades of history, yet his mother had arranged it that way.
Despite his somewhat haggard appearance – he’d probably been sleeping badly again, or had lost himself in front of his computers.
Frost managed to place red roses in a glass vase on the dining table “It brings a bit of life into the place,” was his brief explanation as his fingers brushed against yours.
You gently stroked the red blossoms; the scent was fresh and summery as he pulled out the chair for you to sit down and Robert disappeared into the kitchen for a moment.
You sensed the nervousness, or rather the attempt to do everything exactly as the older man had imagined it, when after a few moments a warm, rich aroma filled the room, a clinking sound as the small serving trolley was rolled from him to the table.
“I thought something hearty would be just the thing” he said as he ladled the stew into the deep plates and placed one in front of you before helping himself.
It was something you had to admire; his talent was evident in the kitchen too, full of flavour, the warm broth complementing the chopped vegetables and meat.
“I’m glad you like it…glad it’s all going down well” he replied to your praise, his smile tinged not with bitterness or sorrow but with hope as you reached across the table for his hand.
At first he flinched, but then allowed the touch; his slightly bloodied fingers had never bothered you…for he’d let you tend to them just as well.
After the good meal, Robert stood up to change the record whilst you opened the chocolate and both took a bite of the sweet treat before he slowly drew you towards him.
“A dance” he murmured as he began to lead you slowly, steps he clearly knew by heart as you moved with him in time to the music.
It was the gentle kiss you gave him as he spun you one last time and embraced you that made the evening perfect.
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Woland
What was the devil to make of such human insignificance?
Had he ever been a human, had he possessed a beating heart capable of taking pleasure in such things, he might have experienced it himself.
Yet even in his present existence, surrounded by his entourage, he found himself, at least with his assistant, his ‘false angel’ of seduction and sin, imitating such human behaviour.
The proceedings, typical undertakings well known to him as he sat in his room, the burning book just an arm’s length away, gazing upon the infinity of the cosmos.
“How would you like a bloody realisation?” Woland asked you, a hint of a smile on his lips as his fingers touched yours, ice-cold as death meeting the heat of hellfire as you let him lead you through space and time.
It was easy for both of you to go unnoticed as he pulled out a chair for you at the little corner café overlooking the bustling street.
“Something with a hint of sweetness” just as a waiter brought the small pancakes with the dark sauce; at first glance perhaps fruit, but when you tasted it and Woland did too, the full-bodied, bloody flavour was answer enough.
Wolands gaze followed yours; you both watched the street, catching snippets of conversation as you revelled in the futile existence of the passers-by.
His gloved hand gently held yours; you were already so much more bound to one another than a scene gradually began to unfold.
“Would you be so kind, my pretty one?” that toothy grin as you followed his words and crossed the junction, just at the moment when the sin of lust the tram drivers and coachmen gave themselves over to, and a loud crash and screams could be heard.
You didn’t need to look behind you to see the fire, the broken glass, the dead bodies and the blood on the stone floor as Woland reappeared beside you.
Hooking his arm through the Woland's, he gave you a gentle kiss “Outstanding, my dear, as always” his praise was honest, sincere - yet it was all too easy to distract people.
As the Devil and his angel vanished into the nearest shadow.
The devils gaze shifted from the surroundings to you; your own eyes never left him as the pair roamed through Moscow.
Feasting on sin and ignorance, laughing at the misfortunes of mankind even though they had warned them – even the delights of mankind tasted as good to them as they did to anyone else.
Yet the beauty of the cosmos as you returned with Woland and his hand held yours, the view directed towards the infinite, was the most beautiful of all.
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PS: I’d give anything to go on a date with him – he’s husband material
