Miss Capri x Male Dragonlord Wizard Reader
The reader is wizard (BBC Merlin/Tvd style) and a Dragonlord (Dragonlords are men who are able to speak to and tame their spiritual brothers, the Dragons. This is an innate, hereditary ability passed down from father to son.) He organizes a date night with Miss Capri which is flying on his dragon across the world
☁️ Above the Clouds 🐉
Isadora Capri x Male!Dragonlord!Wizard!Reader.
The sun sinks low over Nevermore, gilding the world in orange fire and soft violet haze. You stand in the clearing behind your tower, the air humming faintly with magic as your dragon stretches his wings.
Vaelthyr — your spiritual brother, your bonded soul — gleams in the dying light, silver scales catching every flicker of sunset. You run a hand along his neck, feeling the warmth beneath the armor of his hide. He rumbles softly, a deep, thunder-like vibration that makes the air around you tremble.
“You can feel it too, huh?” you murmur with a smile. “She’s close.”
Vaelthyr’s golden eyes narrow knowingly, and his tail gives a lazy sweep along the ground — a dragon’s version of amusement.
Moments later, you hear her — the steady click of boots against stone, her stride measured, confident. When you turn, Isadora Capri walks toward you, her coat swaying slightly in the breeze, her eyes full of quiet curiosity.
“So this is what you’ve been so secretive about?” she asks, stopping just a few paces away, lips curving faintly.
You can’t help smiling. “Part of it. The rest is… well, you’ll see soon enough.”
She glances past you to Vaelthyr, whose wings twitch in anticipation. “You can’t possibly mean—”
“—a flight?” you finish for her, stepping closer, lowering your voice. “Of course I do. Trust me?”
Isadora folds her arms, tilting her head — but the softness in her gaze betrays her. “You know I do.”
You offer your hand, palm up. “Then come with me.”
Her hand fits into yours like it was made to. You guide her up to Vaelthyr’s back, steadying her with your free arm. The dragon lowers himself obediently, scales glinting like starlight as he helps her climb.
When she settles behind you, her hands instinctively find your waist. You can feel her warmth even through your robes, and it sends a quiet shiver through you.
“You can hold on tighter,” you tease.
Her voice brushes your ear — low, amused. “Don’t tempt me, Dragonlord.”
You grin, then whisper the ancient tongue of your kind — “Vaelthyr, ai rhaesh’an.” The words glow in the air for a heartbeat, and then Vaelthyr surges upward.
The ground falls away. The rush of air whips through your hair as the dragon’s mighty wings beat against the wind. Nevermore shrinks below — the clock towers, the lake, the rooftops — all turned to glittering fragments beneath the rising moon.
Isadora’s gasp turns into laughter, clear and bright in the cold night air. She tightens her arms around you, pressing close as Vaelthyr climbs higher still.
“It’s—gods, it’s beautiful!” she shouts over the wind.
You glance back at her, catching the starlight in her eyes. “Told you it’d be worth it.”
The dragon glides through a break in the clouds, and suddenly the world goes silent. Moonlight spills over everything — Vaelthyr’s scales shimmer like quicksilver, the sky a vast ocean of stars around you.
You murmur another spell, weaving small motes of blue and gold light that drift like fireflies in the air around you both. Isadora reaches out, her fingers brushing one as it flickers softly in her palm.
Her voice drops to a whisper. “You always do this… you always find new ways to make the impossible real.”
You look at her, really look at her — her hair caught in the wind, her eyes alight with wonder, the faint smile she tries (and fails) to hide.
“You make me want to,” you say quietly.
Her breath catches. For a moment, neither of you move. The stars above and the world below fade until it’s only her — the rhythm of her breathing, the soft heat of her hand against your chest.
Then she leans in and kisses you.
It’s slow, tender — but full of that same fire that burns behind her calm eyes. Vaelthyr rumbles approvingly beneath you, his wings steady, carrying you through the clouds as though even the sky itself respects the moment.
When you part, you’re both breathless.
She laughs softly, her forehead resting against yours. “You’ve ruined every future date for me, you know that?”
You grin, brushing your thumb over her cheek. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep setting the bar higher.”
Her hand lingers over your heart, her voice soft as silk. “Next time, you let me plan it.”
You chuckle. “Only if it still involves you.”
Vaelthyr dips slightly, beginning a smooth descent toward Nevermore’s twinkling lights. You glance back once more at the stars, feeling the faint pulse of your dragon’s bond echo in your chest — strong, steady, unbreakable.
As Isadora rests her chin on your shoulder, whispering something only you can hear, you think to yourself — There’s nothing in all the skies you’d trade for this moment.