Romantasy
a woman reading a spicy BookTok novel filled with castlecore sex

I Recreated Castlecore Sex Scenes From BookTok Novels & It Was Hard

My sneaky link did not know what he was in for.

by Mia Sherin
Shutterstock

I recently partook in a critical rite of passage for the horny betches of the literary world: I read the viral romantasy series A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas. There’s only one problem with devouring these books as a 25-year-old single girl suffering through the NYC dating scene — my expectations are now far too high. Suddenly, an awkward hookup with a Hinge match on a Wednesday evening won’t cut it. I need someone to take me like the men-slash-monsters do in this smutty Beauty and the Beast. I need sex straight out of a fairy tale — or at least faerie porn.

Luckily, the heavens heard my prayers recently when I came across a story on a little something called castlecore sex, an IRL trend that’s taken off since the rise of SmutTok. Think candles, corsets, and Game of Thrones-esque props, i.e. banging like your favorite romantasy characters do. This was great news: I’m not the only freak who craves fictional faerie fornication! However, it’s not all fun and foreplay with castlecore sex, and experts have issued warnings about the trend, specifically when it comes to dragon-shaped dildos getting lodged where they shouldn’t.

How could I safely give castle coitus a try and satisfy my wildest cravings? I would swap dildos for real-life D (God bless my reliable sneaky link), keep a watchful eye on my candles, and get deep into character.

That’s right. I recreated my favorite spicy scenes from BookTok novels, and spoiler alert: It didn’t go as planned. (But for real, spoiler alert for all of these books.)

Becoming The High Lord’s Whore From A Court Of Mist And Fury

Chapter 42 of A Court of Mist and Fury had me feeling all types of tingles when Feyre pretended to be the “High Lord’s whore” and got dirty with Rhys while the bad guys watched. “I was sitting in his lap, his own personal plaything, his every touch visible to them…and yet it might as well have been only the two of us,” Maas writes. After revisiting that scene for a little solo play session, I decided to text my sneaky link. “Come over,” I typed. “I have an idea.” He’s just about as horny as I am, so there were zero follow-up questions asked. Later that night, he visited my castle.

My swivel desk chair was his throne. An old birthday party tiara served as his crown. My sluttiest lingerie got me into character, and candles lit around the room gave the illusion that we were in a castle (if you squinted really hard).

At this point, High Lord Sneaky Link began to get skeptical of the scenario, but once I read him the chapter I wanted to act out, he was sold: “His hand slid higher up my thigh,” I read, “the proprietary touch of a male who knew he owned someone, body and soul.” We then attempted to act out the scene, imagining an audience of intrigued, evil faeries watching. But TBH, staring at my blank wall, him in a tiara and me in an itchy thong, we couldn’t help but burst out laughing every five seconds.

“This is ridiculous,” I finally admitted. We took off the costumes and boned like the human Hinge matches that we are.

Going Full Vampire Like The Serpent And The Wings Of Night

A week went by without any castlecore sex. There was no denying it: The first try wasn’t exactly a home run. But on the eve of my next hang with Sir Sneaky Link, I decided I couldn’t go down without a fight. Maybe a new scenario would hit all the right notes. As I poked around in my closet for a fitting corset, I stumbled upon last year’s Halloween costume: a classic, tried-and-true slutty vampire.

Who does vampire smut better than Carissa Broadbent, the author of The Serpent and the Wings of Night? A fan-favorite in the romantasy community, this novel has a legendary sex scene that is what dirty dreams are made of. “I was pinned between him and the wall,” she writes. “Suddenly my legs were lifted, parted around his hips, and the hard press of him between my thighs made my breath hitch.”

With my roommate out of town, I met my sneaky link at the front door in my black lace dress, fake blood dripping from my bottom lip. There were no greetings. No hellos. Only, “I want you to pin me against that wall. Right now.” Let’s just say, he did as he was told. My legs were wrapped around him as he held me against the wall, licking the blood off my neck, and for around 45 seconds, it was the hottest makeout ever. That is, until I got really tired from sucking in my core and squeezing my thighs together so I wouldn’t slip down the wall.

“Put me down,” I huffed. “I’m not built for this.”

Recapturing The Fun Of A Fourth Wing-Worthy Slow Burn

I woke up the next morning feeling bummed and defeated. Why can’t I have a BookTok-worthy bang? Am I forever sentenced to a life of vanilla sex? I need to try again. I need to try a different scene, I told myself. To do some brainstorming, I called up my long-time bestie and fellow smut lover.

“What’s your favorite sex scene from a romantasy book?” I asked her.

“It’s not full-on sex,” she replied, “but I think the hottest scene is when Violet and Xaden finally kiss in Fourth Wing.”

“You don’t think it’s hotter when they f*ck?” my dirty mind asked.

“Nah,” she replied. “The build-up is everything. When they kiss, it’s the biggest payoff.”

“Sh*t,” I said. “You’re totally right.” I’m always very quick to have sex — on first dates or nights out, I’m simply not someone who ~waits~. I bang off the bat to keep things casual, leaving no time to build real excitement and wanting. But that’s really what these romantasy books do best, right? It’s the yearning, edging, and tension that make the desire burn stronger.

I have decided that for my final romantasy recreation, I’m taking a vow of celibacy. (That is, an extremely temporary one.) The next date I go on, or the next cute boy I like, I won’t bang or even kiss him from the jump. Instead, I’ll try a slow burn — I’ll let the anticipation build, make room for sexual tension, and allow myself to really want someone. Maybe then I’ll have sex — or something more — worthy of a smutty love story.