Prompt: Asta and Noelle begin sharing vivid, intimate dreams of each other—dreams so real they can't help but indulge. But when the line between fantasy and reality blurs, they realize too late that their deepest desires have just become very public knowledge.
—
Dorothy yawned, sprawled across a couch in House Silva's grand estate, her chin resting on her palm. Nozel sat at his desk nearby, diligently working through stacks of paperwork, his usual stoic expression betraying not a hint of exhaustion.
"Boooooring," Dorothy drawled, rolling onto her back. "Nozel, entertain me."
Nozel didn't even look up. "I am busy."
Dorothy huffed, crossing her arms. "Then I'll entertain myself."
Her violet eyes flicked toward a certain silver-haired noble who was making her way down the hall. Noelle Silva. Her sister-in-law, though the younger girl still stiffened slightly whenever Dorothy referred to her that way.
An impish grin spread across Dorothy's face. "Hey, Nozel~"
A sigh. "What now?"
"If I were to… say… nudge your little sister's love life along, you wouldn't mind, right?"
Nozel finally looked up, brow twitching. "What are you planning?"
Dorothy giggled. "Nothing bad, promise~ Just a little dream magic, a little matchmaking…"
Nozel's eye twitched again, and Dorothy decided to take that as permission.
—
That night, as Noelle drifted into sleep, her dreams twisted—soft, hazy, a swirl of colors shifting into a familiar landscape. She stood in the heart of a quiet Clover Kingdom, the castle towering in the distance, but the streets were empty, bathed in the golden glow of a setting sun.
Strange. She never dreamed of the capital.
She turned—and froze.
Asta stood just a few feet away, hands behind his head, that usual bright smile on his face. "Oh, hey, Noelle!"
Her heart lurched, then settled.
Oh. Just a dream.
A smirk tugged at her lips as she folded her arms.
If this was just a dream, then maybe…
She could use this opportunity for some practice.
Dream Asta wouldn't judge her. Dream Asta wouldn't tease her afterward. And most importantly, this was safe.
A sly glint entered Noelle's eyes. "Asta," she purred, stepping closer.
Asta blinked. "Huh?"
"I… like you," she murmured, gazing up at him with feigned shyness. Then, with a wicked smirk, she leaned in, tracing a finger down his chest. "Actually, no. I love you."
Asta's face exploded into red. "W-Wha—?"
Noelle's smirk widened. Oh, this was fun. Dream Asta reacted just like real Asta.
Emboldened, she stepped even closer, their bodies almost touching. "You know, I've wanted to tell you for a long time," she whispered, tilting her head up ever so slightly. "But it's hard. You're just so dense sometimes."
Asta's mouth opened and closed. He looked utterly dumbfounded.
Perfect.
Noelle leaned up, lips barely an inch from his.
Asta jerked back. "N-Noelle, what's gotten into you?!"
Noelle blinked. "What do you mean?"
"This—this isn't like you at all!" Asta stammered. "You're all confident and flirty and—and—"
Noelle rolled her eyes. "Ugh, you're impossible." She stepped back, hands on her hips. "It's just a dream, Asta. None of this is real."
Asta flinched. "A dream?"
"Obviously." Noelle gestured around them. "You think I'd say all this to you in real life? Get real."
Asta seemed to hesitate, rubbing the back of his neck. "So… none of this is real?"
"Of course not."
Asta frowned. He glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers.
It felt real.
The wind ruffling his clothes. The warmth of Noelle's body when she'd gotten too close. Even now, the fading heat on his chest where she had traced a finger.
A small, nagging thought poked at him.
What if this was real?
Noelle, meanwhile, felt a wave of relief.
That was surprisingly easy. She hadn't even stuttered.
She smirked to herself. Maybe she'd do this again. A little dream practice wouldn't hurt.
Unbeknownst to both of them, miles away, Dorothy giggled in her sleep.
This was going to be so much fun.
—
The first time had been fun. A harmless little experiment.
The second time, though? That was when things started getting interesting.
Noelle found herself in another dream—only this time, they weren't in the capital. They were on a beach, the sky painted in hues of pink and orange, waves rolling lazily onto the shore. The breeze tickled her skin, the scent of salt filling her lungs.
And there, standing just a few feet away, was Asta.
Noelle hummed. Again, huh?
So it wasn't a one-time thing.
Her mind, logical as ever, supplied a simple answer: Recurring dreams happen. This isn't real. Just another chance to practice.
A slow smirk curled her lips.
Fine. If this was how it was going to be, she'd make use of it.
She stretched, arching her back slightly—just enough to be noticeable—before strolling toward him, deliberately swaying her hips.
"Yo, Noelle!" Asta beamed, waving at her like a clueless puppy.
Adorable.
"Hey there," she purred, letting her voice dip into something dangerously smooth.
Asta blinked. His grin faltered just a bit.
Noelle's smirk widened.
Good. He noticed.
"Something wrong?" she asked innocently, tilting her head.
Asta scratched his cheek. "Uh… I dunno. You seem… different."
"Do I?" She took another step forward.
Asta gulped.
Oh, this was fun.
Noelle didn't hesitate this time. She reached up, trailing a finger along his collarbone, then down his chest.
"You work out too much," she mused, tapping a finger against his abs.
Asta choked. "W-WHAT?!"
She giggled, twirling away before he could react.
This is just a dream.
She had no reason to hold back.
So, she didn't.
—
The dreams continued.
Every night, she found herself in a different setting—a flower field, a cozy cabin, even floating among the stars once (that had been particularly fun). And every time, Asta was there, blissfully unaware of what she was doing.
At first, she played it safe.
A teasing touch here, a sultry whisper there. Harmless.
But then, her confidence grew.
And the real fun began.
—
One night, they found themselves in a hot spring, steam rising in thick clouds around them. The water lapped gently at their shoulders, the scent of minerals heavy in the air.
Asta was rambling about training—something about his new sword technique, but Noelle wasn't listening.
She was watching him.
His bare shoulders. The way the water glistened on his skin. The rise and fall of his chest.
A thought popped into her head.
Why not push a little further?
Smirking, she drifted closer.
Asta, oblivious as ever, kept talking.
Then, ever so casually, Noelle settled onto his lap.
Asta froze.
"U-Uh—N-Noelle?!"
"Hm?" She tilted her head, feigning innocence.
"W-Why are you—y-you're—"
She leaned in, lips brushing against his ear. "You're so tense, Asta~"
His entire body locked up.
Mission accomplished.
—
Another night, another setting.
They were in a lavish ballroom, dancing under a chandelier that bathed them in golden light. Noelle, dressed in a deep red gown, felt dangerous. She twirled in Asta's arms, pressing close, lips just a breath away from his.
"You really have no idea how much I want you, do you?" she whispered.
Asta swallowed hard. "W-Wha—?"
"Just a dream," she reminded him, brushing her lips against his cheek before pulling away. "Nothing to worry about."
Asta looked utterly lost.
Good.
—
Then, something changed.
One night, as they lounged on a grassy hill under a starry sky, Noelle straddled Asta's waist, smirking down at him.
It had become so easy to get a reaction out of him.
But this time, he didn't immediately flail or stammer.
This time, he just looked at her.
Really looked.
Then, slowly—hesitantly—his hands settled on her hips.
Noelle's breath hitched.
He never touched her before.
Dream Asta was supposed to be passive. A blushing mess. Not—
Not this.
Not reciprocating.
"Asta?" she murmured.
He blinked up at her. "I… I think I like this," he admitted.
Noelle's heart skipped.
This was still a dream. She knew that.
But it suddenly didn't feel like one.
Especially when Asta, face still burning, suddenly flipped their positions, pinning her beneath him.
Noelle sucked in a sharp breath.
And then—he kissed her.
Not a hesitant brush. Not an accident.
A deep, lingering kiss that sent heat pooling in her stomach.
Her fingers curled against his chest.
Oh, shit.
This was spiraling out of control.
But as Asta pulled back, staring at her like she was the only thing in the world—
She realized she didn't want to stop.
Not anymore.
—
Far away, in the real world, Dorothy snickered into her pillow.
"Oh, this is so much better than I expected~"
—
Noelle had a problem.
A massive, humiliating, completely unsolvable problem.
She was too used to kissing Asta.
The first time they kissed in a dream, it had been a rush of heat and shock, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. The second time, she'd been more prepared. The third? She'd initiated it.
By the fourth and fifth, she didn't even hesitate.
And Asta? The boy who once nearly fainted if she so much as brushed his hand?
Now he kissed back.
Sometimes slow and lingering. Other times desperate and breathless. Once, against a wall, hands in her hair, bodies pressed—
Nope, stop, STOP.
Noelle slapped her hands to her face, trying to physically push the memory out of her brain.
The worst part? It wasn't just the kissing.
Some nights, they'd lay together, tangled beneath silk sheets, whispering secrets they never dared say aloud in reality. Some nights, they went further, testing just how far they could push their dream selves before waking up with racing hearts and burning skin.
And in reality?
They were still exactly the same.
Same awkward tension. Same blushing glances. Same unbearable, unspoken feelings.
She thought the dreams would help her grow immune to him.
Instead, they'd done the opposite.
And now, her real-life self—who had gone months without acting on anything—was desperately fighting the urge to pounce on Asta at all times.
—
The First Near-Slip
It started with a simple training session.
The Black Bulls were out in the courtyard, sparring and showing off as usual. Noelle wasn't paying attention—too busy trying not to let her eyes linger on Asta.
Then, as if fate had a sick sense of humor, Asta pulled off his shirt.
Oh no.
Her fingers twitched.
This was bad.
In their dreams, it had become normal for her to run her hands down his chest, to trace the lines of his abs, to bite—
STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT.
Noelle squeezed her eyes shut.
This was reality.
She couldn't just—
Then, Asta turned to her, grinning. "Hey, Noelle! Wanna spar?"
Her brain short-circuited.
She was going to die.
For a split second, dream and reality blurred. The urge to close the distance, to grab him by the face and devour his lips, was nearly overwhelming.
Noelle barely managed to turn away, fists clenched. "N-No thanks!" she stammered, her voice an entire octave too high. "I-I just remembered I—I have to—go!"
She bolted.
Behind her, Asta blinked in confusion.
—
The Second Near-Slip
The next incident happened at the hideout.
It was a perfectly normal evening. Everyone was gathered in the common area, chatting and eating. Noelle was doing an amazing job ignoring Asta.
Then, in the middle of laughing at something Finral said, Asta's hand casually brushed over hers.
The effect was instantaneous.
Her whole body locked up. Heat shot down her spine.
It's just a touch.
Except—it wasn't.
She wasn't used to just touching him anymore.
She was used to gripping his shoulders as he pressed her against a wall. To digging her nails into his back as he kissed her senseless. To breathless gasps against each other's lips in the dead of night—
"—elle? Noelle?"
She jolted.
Asta was staring at her, concern in his eyes.
"Are you okay?"
Noelle squeaked. "Y-Yes! Fine! Perfectly fine!"
She launched herself off the couch and ran.
From across the room, Vanessa raised a brow. "What's up with her?"
"Beats me," Asta muttered, staring after her, his own face a little pink.
—
The Third Near-Slip
Noelle wasn't the only one suffering.
Asta had his own problems.
The dreams had completely ruined him.
At first, he'd panicked. Then, he'd enjoyed them. Now?
Now, he craved them.
Every time he closed his eyes, Noelle was there.
Teasing him. Kissing him. Whispering things that made him blush just thinking about them.
Then, he'd wake up and see her in real life—her usual tsundere self, scolding him for something dumb—and his brain would go completely haywire.
He was starting to replace Sister Lily with Noelle in his thoughts.
And that?
That was scary.
Because suddenly, when he imagined a future, it wasn't the childhood dream of marrying Sister Lily.
It was something new.
Something real.
Something with Noelle.
And the worst part?
He couldn't even act on it.
Because despite everything they'd done in their dreams, in real life, they were still stupidly awkward. They were still simply friends.
Not the passionate lovers in dream land.
Simply friends, which made things very confusing.
Which led to his own near-slip.
—
They were alone in the hideout's kitchen.
Noelle was standing by the counter, pouring herself tea. Asta meant to just walk past her.
But then—for no reason at all—his dream-self's habits kicked in.
Without thinking, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
Like he always did in their dreams.
Noelle froze.
Asta froze.
Realization slammed into his brain like a boulder.
OH CRAP OH CRAP OH CRAP.
Noelle whipped around, eyes wide.
Asta panicked.
"I-I WAS JUST—UH—UH—" He grabbed a cup. "DRINKING WATER!"
Then he chugged the entire thing.
Noelle's face was bright red.
"Y-YOU IDIOT!" she shrieked, slamming her cup down and fleeing.
Asta stood there, heart pounding.
"Oh man," he whispered. "I'm so screwed."
—
The Final Breaking Point
They were one more dream away from disaster.
One more breathy confession. One more tangled embrace.
One more almost crossing the final line.
The next morning, neither of them could take it anymore.
They were seconds from snapping.
And then it happened.
—
It was a routine early morning mission in the Clover Kingdom.
Asta and Noelle stood in the marketplace, waiting for the others. The sun was warm. The breeze was soft. The atmosphere was peaceful.
And then—
Asta, still half-trapped in dream habits, reached for Noelle's waist, pulling her close like he always did.
Noelle, also trapped in dream-brain, went with it.
Then, in front of dozens of people, in broad daylight—
They made out.
Deeply. Passionately. Hands roaming. Tongues—
Oh God, tongues.
The marketplace erupted into chaos.
The Black Bulls screamed. Nozel nearly had a stroke.
And Asta and Noelle?
They pulled away, dazed, blinking.
Slowly. Horrifyingly.
They realized they weren't dreaming.
"…Oh."
"…Crap."
The world exploded.
—
The world around them felt wrong.
Not because of the chaos—the screaming civilians, the shrieking Black Bulls, the fact that Nozel had gone deathly silent, which was even worse than his usual fury.
No.
It was wrong because they weren't waking up.
Asta's arms were still around her.
Noelle's hands were still gripping his collar.
Their lips were still tingling.
And the marketplace was still there.
Noelle swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her ribs. "Asta," she whispered.
His fingers tightened on her waist.
"...Yeah?"
"Are we… still dreaming?"
Asta blinked, his dazed mind struggling to catch up. "I mean…" He glanced around. "It feels real…"
Noelle's stomach dropped.
This wasn't a dream.
This was reality.
And they had just made out. In public.
Her entire body went rigid.
Asta finally registered what that meant.
They both snapped back at the same time.
"OH CRAP!"
They stumbled apart, panting, faces burning.
But it was too late.
The damage was done.
—
A horrified silence had fallen over the marketplace.
Then, in true Black Bulls fashion—
Everything erupted.
"WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?!"
Luck, bless his feral little heart, was vibrating with excitement. "Oh man, oh man, they finally did it! I KNEW IT!"
Vanessa was sobbing. "MY BABIES HAVE GROWN UP!"
Magna collapsed to his knees. "My bro—my pure, innocent bro—he's gone!"
Charmy just nodded sagely. "So the mating season has begun."
Grey, meanwhile, had passed out on the spot.
But the worst—the absolute worst—was Nozel.
He didn't shout.
He didn't explode in fury.
No.
He just stood there.
Silent.
Expression unreadable.
Until, in a voice so cold it could freeze hell over, he finally said—
"...Explain."
Noelle felt her soul leave her body.
She turned to Asta.
Asta turned to her.
Their eyes screamed the same thing.
We are so freaking dead.
—
Their only hope was denial.
Maybe they could talk their way out of this. Maybe they could convince everyone it wasn't what it looked like.
Asta, ever the genius, went first.
"Uh! Haha! Funny story! You see, Captain Nozel, sir, we—uh—we thought it was a dream! Right, Noelle?!"
Noelle, still recovering from near-death, jolted at being thrown under the metaphorical cart.
"Y-YES! A DREAM! HAHAHA!"
It was, perhaps, the least convincing lie in the history of lies.
Silence.
Nozel's eye twitched.
Asta and Noelle were ready to run.
Then, a voice—far too amused for comfort—cut through the tension.
"Ohohohoho. Now this is interesting."
A chill crawled down Noelle's spine.
She turned.
Dorothy stood there, an innocent smile on her face—which meant nothing good.
The moment their eyes met, Dorothy burst into laughter.
Noelle's stomach plummeted.
"You…" she whispered.
Dorothy grinned.
"Oops," she said. "Guess my little trick worked a bit too well."
The realization hit like a magic blast to the gut.
Noelle's face went pale.
"You…" Her voice trembled with rage. "This was YOU?!"
Dorothy wiggled her fingers, all too pleased with herself. "Well, I was getting bored. And seeing my cute little sister-in-law struggle with her feelings was just too entertaining to ignore. So, I thought—why not help things along?"
Asta gaped. "You mean—you linked our dreams on purpose?"
Dorothy winked.
Noelle exploded.
"ARE YOU INSANE?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE?!"
Dorothy hummed, tapping a finger to her chin. "Oh, I dunno. Made you realize your feelings? Gave you a little push? Allowed you to explore your desires in a safe, consequence-free environment?" She smirked. "You're welcome, by the way."
Noelle wanted to strangle her.
Asta, meanwhile, was still struggling to process everything.
"So… none of that was just my imagination?" he muttered. "Noelle really was in all those dreams?"
Dorothy beamed. "Yup! Every steamy, scandalous moment!"
Asta's brain shut down.
Noelle, already at her limit, grabbed him by the shoulders.
"Listen to me very carefully, Asta," she hissed. "We. Will. NEVER. Speak of this again."
Asta gulped, nodding rapidly. "Y-Yes, ma'am!"
Dorothy snickered. "Aww, but why not? It was fun, wasn't it?"
Noelle seethed.
And in the middle of it all, Nozel—who had been far too silent—finally spoke.
"...I'm going to kill him."
Asta bolted.
—
By the time the chaos settled—after Noelle barely stopped Nozel from beheading Asta, after the Black Bulls finished celebrating/mourning the loss of Asta's innocence, after Dorothy got a very aggressive lecture—Noelle and Asta finally found themselves alone.
The silence between them was… heavy.
Asta rubbed the back of his head. "Sooo… that happened."
Noelle groaned, burying her face in her hands. "That was a disaster."
"Yeah."
"An absolute nightmare."
"Totally."
A pause.
"...But also kinda great?"
Noelle's head snapped up. "WHAT?!"
Asta laughed nervously. "I mean—don't get me wrong, the public part was a disaster, yeah. But, uh…" He scratched his cheek. "The rest of it… wasn't bad."
Noelle stared.
Asta turned red.
And suddenly, her own words from all those dreams came back to haunt her.
The confessions. The teasing. The kisses.
The fact that, at no point, had Asta ever rejected her.
Because he wanted it too.
The realization sent a rush of warmth through her chest.
"...You're saying," she began slowly, "hypothetically, if we weren't in public, you wouldn't mind if I—"
Asta swallowed hard.
"I definitely wouldn't mind."
A heavy silence fell.
Then—at the same time—
They grabbed each other.
Asta pulled her in. Noelle yanked him closer. Their lips crashed together again, this time without hesitation, without second-guessing.
Clothes were torn from their bodies as Asta pushed her down onto his bed without a moment's hesitation.
No foreplay. No teasing. No buildup.
No dreams. No tricks.
Just them.
Finally real.