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dawn winery

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The sun has long set by the time you finally emerge from the noisy bar, and the streetlights have flickered on, casting shadows against the surrounding town houses. There's a general hush over the town, shouting and singing from inside bars and taverns are a distant hum as you stumble through the streets

You didn’t mean to stay as late as you did but you were celebrating Venti’s birthday with drinking and singing into the late night. You’d only had a few drinks which was a few more than intended but with everyone else drinking around, you decided one or two wouldn’t hurt. Besides, it’s Venti’s birthday; it’s what he would have wanted.


The walk to Dawn Winery wasn’t too far, your tipsy brain concludes and anyway, the cool summer air would hopefully help you sober up before you got home to a disappointed Diluc.

He was not a fan of you drinking, at all, despite being a well known wine tycoon around Mondstadt. He had specifically not worked tonight, knowing how rowdy Venti and his gang got, especially when alcohol was involved. With a bottle of dandelion wine popped open, you made your way out of the gates.


“Ma’am/Sir? Are you okay?” A guard, you think it’s Swan, but it's dark and your vision is unfocused, calls out to you as you totter over the bridge.

“Yessirr!” you slur, waving him off.


You're pretty sure Diluc had mentioned something along the lines of getting someone to escort you home if you did decide to drink, but honestly? It wasn’t that far to go, and you didn’t want to bother anyone in the early hours of Sunday morning.


Despite the cool night and the chilly breeze that accompanies it, you're too warm. You wish for some rain, and laugh to yourself, taking another swig of the wine. You kinda regret not grabbing a jacket like Diluc had warned you before you left but the bottle of wine is keeping you warm and you’ve made good progress considering you’ve just stepped into Springvale.

Just as you leave the small village, you feel a few drops of water drop onto your head. A few moments later, it starts pouring. After about half a minute, you're soaked to the bone, clothes clinging to your damp skin, hair completely ruined.

You rub your hands against your trembling arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps. You take another swig of wine and revel in the warm feeling it leaves. With unfocused eyes and weak limbs you stumble up a small incline and Dawn Winery comes into view, calves aching.


The walk was much further than you previously thought. You should have just drunk more and fell unconscious at the bar.


You can see that most of the lights are off, save for one in Diluc’s office and one in the lobby. You heave the oak door and let yourself in. You're dripping water all over the carpet as you stand there in the lobby, shaking.


“Master (Y/N)!” Adeline comes up the stairs, probably hearing you come in. She hurries over and takes your bag and the bottle of wine you have in your hand, placing them on a side table. As she hurries off to find you a towel, you look up to see Diluc peeking his head out of his office, probably wondering what all the commotion was this early in the morning. He comes down the stairs towards you.

“Lulu!” you coo just as Adelinde comes back in with a towel. His face instantly goes red; Lulu was your nickname for him and you never said it infront of others. It was more something you called him when you were getting ready for bed together, not in front of one of his maids.


He’s silent as he makes his way over to you and you can’t really make out whether he’s mad or not- he’s an expert at keeping his expression neutral even if he’s pissed. You do note the obvious stiffness of his jaw.


“Adelinde, you’re dismissed,” Diluc says, and she bows shallowly, leaving the towel in your arms as she scurries downstairs into the maid’s quarters.

You drop the towel in order to wrap your arm around his middle, clasping your fingers together against his back. Your chin is pressed into his chest as you look up at him. From here. you can see his faint dusting of freckles and moles, and his long, dark eyelashes. You can also see his prominent eyebags you swear weren’t there the night before.

“Hello,” you smile up at him as he pushes your wet fringe from your forehead. You smile wider as he reluctantly wraps his arms around you. “You’re still in your day clothes.”

“I was-- working late. Lots of paperwork recently with the new shareholders.”

You slowly trail your hand down his back, not entirely listening and more interested in playfully grabbing his ass, but your mischievous smirk must have easily given your intention away as he quickly grabs your wrist before you can.

“You’re drunk,” he states and you frown. What’s that gotta do with takin’ a bite out of that ass?

“Nu-uh. Tipsy at best. You know the--the wind makes it-- me I mean, sober up faster,” he lifts an eyebrow at your attempt at a comprehensible sentence, and you know he hasn’t believed a word you’ve stammered out.

“You know I don’t like it when you drink and then come visit me after.”

“Where else was I meant to go? It’s not like Venti has a house I can stay at. He lives- fuckin’. Where does Venti live?” You pull away, and gently pat the damp spot on his chest from your wet hair, leaving a hand on his chest. Was it always this hard to the touch? My boyfriend’s dilf material, you think.

“I don’t like you hanging out with that bard.” His voice is severe and it makes you remove your hand from his chest. Since when did you need to be told who you can and can’t hang out with? Christ, he may be DILF material but he’s not a father and you’re certainly not his teenage child.


“Well I don’t like you being so controlling,” you huff back. Diluc falls silent and you eye him. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Your gaze falls to your waterlogged shoes, and you feel guilt begin to bubble in the pits of your stomach. The corners of your mouth quiver as you stop yourself from crying over something you said. You push out a breath before looking back up at his devilish red eyes-- were they always this red? No, not the time to think about your boyfriend’s dreamy eyes.

You realise that past the red, they're surprisingly cold and harsh, but they soften a bit when he sees your curled lips.


“I’m sorry. I’m going to bed.”

“No you’re not. You’re having a bath. You are not to go in the bedroom reeking of alcohol.” he says, and pushes you upstairs and into the bathroom where he starts running a bath for you.


You stand there, slightly dumbfounded and slightly turned on at his firmness, watching as he rolls up his sleeves to his elbows. You momentarily fixated on how his forearms flex as he turns the tap, and his worn fingers dipping into the water to test it’s warmth.


“You’re so pretty,” you say to yourself, and it’s not until you look back up at your boyfriend’s flushed face to realise he heard you. Oh well. He seems to brush off the comment as he instructs you to get in.

“Will you be joining me, Master Diluc?” you waggle your eyebrows as you try to look as sultry as possible whilst slipping off your shirt. It’s not exactly the picture of sexiness as in actual fact you're wrangling with a sopping piece of fabric that’s stuck to your skin. His eyes briefly flick down to your figure before he looks at you again. The only hint that he’s somewhat fased is the slight flush collecting on the high of his cheekbones. He cocks a single eyebrow before speaking.

“Not when you’re drunk.” You huff at that but finish taking your clothes off, your sore calves ready to relax from the trek earlier.

When you finally sink into the warm water you let out a big sigh, your eyes slipping closed. The warmth instantly makes you feel 10x sleepier and you’re honestly so ready to get into some fluffy pajamas, grab some sort of hot beverage and curl up in front of the fire with your boyfriend.

You’re almost asleep when the sound of a stool being dragged across the floor makes you crack open a single eye. Diluc’s sat at the edge of the bath, and you watch with mild interest as he fills a jug with water from the bath.


“Tilt your head back,” a soft voice says in an almost whisper as a hand is placed just above your brow and warm water is poured over your hair.

The way he’s working the shampoo into your scalp makes you even more drowsery- if that was even possible at this point. Despite him being annoyed at you, he’s still as gentle as ever.


You barely notice him finishing until he’s offering you a hand to help you out of the bath. He's quick to wrap a fluffy bath towel around you. You’re so sleepy you briefly consider just sleeping standing up like some crazy mad-man.

You stand there, dripping onto the tiles until he returns with some pajamas which he places on the counter for you to change into.

“Do you need supervision?” he asks, genuinely but your brain doesn’t quite pick up on the tone.

“Fuck off Diluc. You’re my boyfriend not my fuckin’- caretaker.” As soon as the words come out of your mouth, you regret them. The corner of his lips turn downwards and he gives a nod of acknowledgement before leaving. You listen for the click of the door and his footsteps as he crosses the landing. Guilt gnaws at your inside; you’re not sure why you snapped. He’d been nothing but polite and yet here you were being hostile for no reason. You sniffle, and press the palm of your hands into your eyes until you see stars.


You quickly dry yourself off and change into your pajamas (which are just one of Diluc’s old shirts that's too small for him and a pair of comfortable shorts). You hold the fabric of the shirt up to your nose- it still smells faintly of Diluc still and you look upwards at the ceiling to stop yourself crying. Now you're sniveling like a toddler just because your boyfriend is so nice. You let out a frustrated noise, and begin your usual bed routine, brushing your teeth, and fixing your hair.

The alcohol has mostly left your system at this point, all that is left is the bone heavy drowsiness. You almost stumble on the edge of the carpet as you make your way across the landing to your shared bedroom.

You enter and Diluc’s already in bed, bedside lamp off. His hair is still up and you frown.


Every night since you moved in, you’ve done his hair for him, braiding it so there's a slight wave in the morning. It was almost a tradition at this point.

He hates you, your brain supplies, that’s why he’s not letting you do his hair. Now you’re fighting back actual tears, standing in the doorframe still, looking at his resting body. God, you’re an awful partner. It totally makes sense if he hates you now. Now he doesn’t even want you to touch him.

You don’t realise you’ve let out a pathetic sob until Diluc’s wrapping an arm around you, pulling you down to sit on the foot of the bed.


“What’s wrong?” he asks, holding your face in his warm, calloused hands as he wipes tears away with his thumbs.

“You- you hate me,” you cry, placing one of your hands over his.

“No. I’m just a little annoyed, that’s all. I could-,” he hesitates, eyes darting anywhere but yours, “I could never hate you.”

A few moments pass before:


“Can I braid your hair?” you ask, sniffing.

“You don’t have to. You look tired.”

“I want to,” you state, and gently push him towards his side of the bed whilst you go get his hairbrush.

This was the favourite part of your day. It was grounding and de-stressing for you after a long day and you knew it meant a lot to Diluc as he normally hated people touching his hair. It was an intimate moment between you two and you loved it, considering Diluc was never the one for huge romantic gestures. Just subtle things like that satisfied him plenty.

You sat behind him on the bed, him between your legs, and you gently pulled his soft hair out from the ponytail it had been in all day.


“You need to start wearing different styles, Lu. You’re gonna ruin your hair if you keep tying it in the same place,” you say, starting to brush the ends of his hair.

“What do you suggest then?” his left hand lands on your knee, rubbing soft circles on it with his thumb. You let out a hum before continuing.

“High ponytail, a bun. A french braid would be cute. You could also just leave it down”

“I don’t know how to do any of them.”

“I’ll do them then,” you offer, and you take his silence as a yes. He’s always been quite- reserved. Never truly saying what he wants in fear of being embarrassed. It’s endearing.


Your fingers brush the sensitive skin around his ears as you collect as much hair as you can, and you smirk to yourself as he tries to suppress a shiver but ultimately fails. You began to braid his red hair into a loose braid before tying it off at the end with an elastic.

You pass it over his shoulder to show you're done. He turns around and gives you a soft kiss on the lips- the first he’s given since you got home.


“Thank you,” you heart flutters and you grab his face. You begin placing kisses wherever you can reach. You revel in the small hitch of his breath as you place the final one on the bridge of his nose.

“That’s enough,” he says, trying to sound firm and tough, but his averted gaze tells you all you need to know. You let out a giggle, just knowing he was getting embarrassed.


Soon, all the lights are off and you’re lying in bed together, face pressed into his collarbone. He’s gently petting your hair as you curl a finger into the fabric of his bedshirt. Diluc’s unbelievably warm- but not as you'd wake up sweating buckets but more like a gentle heat, like a cat that decided to fall asleep on your chest. The mixture of Diluc, a personal radiator, and the small amount of alcohol still in your blood, you're out pretty fast.

When he’s sure you’ve fallen asleep, he places a kiss on the top of your hair and mumbles a quick “I love you” into it. He too, joins you asleep soon enough.