I Didn't Start Reading Smut for Research… But Here We Are
It started innocently enough. A random friend posting the cover of their “CR” here, finding myself downloading the first book in the ACOTAR series, toss in a few spicy scenes, and suddenly I'm texting my book bestie at midnight like, “If this fae male doesn’t bend her over a balcony in the next chapter, I swear to all that is good…”
I was definitely not reading for coaching research. I was reading because honestly, it was fun.
I love the tension.
The slow burn.
The enemies to lovers.
The unapologetic lust.
The sheer sexiness of it all.
But the more I read… TOG, Quicksilver, Haunting Adeline, the Plated Prisoner (put it on your TBR list ASAP)… the more I started to feel something that wasn’t just excitement from these romantasy and dark romance stories.
It was genuine curiosity.
I read the majority of books on my Kindle these days because
a) I travel a lot
and
b) I’m not ready to have those conversations at a coffee shop.
But that also means that I could see something really impressive: these books have hundreds of thousands (and ACOTAR has millions…) of reviews.
Not dozens. Not hundreds.
Hundreds of thousands of people devouring these same taboo-laced, kink-infused stories.
And I couldn’t help but wonder:
If this many of us are into this… what’s really so amazing about these books? What’s actually drawing so many of us in?
Why does dark romance, with all the possessiveness, kink, and seriously blurred power dynamics, turn so many of us on?
And what does it say about our relationship to sex, safety, intimacy, and desire?
As a holistic sex coach, I couldn’t not pay attention.
I work with so many women and men who struggle to connect to their turn-on, feel completely disconnected from their sexuality, and have been impacted by shame, trauma, decades of being told what’s “appropriate”, or some combination of all the above.
And yet here we are, in a society where 20 seconds on IG is a long form of attention, somehow devouring 600-page novels in an 8 book series full of breeding kink, primal play, and heroines who learn to own their power in every form.
So I’m not writing this blog about whether these books are good or bad. I am not here to judge your literary taste.
It’s definitely not about literary criticism and definitely no kink policing here!
It’s about something far more interesting to me.
It’s about how reading romantasy and dark romance might actually be helping women reclaim the parts of themselves they’ve been hiding even from themselves.
It’s about fantasy as a playground for pleasure.
It’s about power, control, arousal… and how fiction frees the desires we didn’t even know we were repressing.
So yeah. Let’s talk about it.
TL;DR (Too Long; Didn’t Read)
For those of you who read 748 pages of fae slow-burn, capable of waiting until book 3 before the enemies become lovers, but somehow still want a summary.. I got you:
Reading dark romance doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means something in you is curious, craving, or waking up.
These stories offer a safe way to explore taboo desires, intensity, and turn-on—especially when “real life” has felt numb or flat.
You can love the fantasy without wanting it in real life. The power is in choosing to explore it—on your terms.
Smut isn’t shallow. It’s a reclamation of pleasure, agency, and erotic curiosity.
What's the Deal with Romantasy & Dark Romance Anyway?
We're not talking about mild-mannered kissing books. These are novels with blood oaths, mating bonds, and men who growl things like:
“My house. My chair. My woman.”
(Yes, that's from Fourth Wing. No, we are not okay.)
Romantasy and dark romance have exploded lately, thanks in large part to BookTok and the Kindle girlies who know exactly what “Chapter 55” means.
But it's not just a trend. It's become a cultural moment.
These genres blend the emotional intensity of romance with the stakes and escapism of fantasy… and sometimes the kink-fueled chaos of the darkest corners of the internet.
They feature morally grey love interests. Power dynamics. Magic systems. Found family. Consent that’s clear… or deliberately, fictionally complicated.
And they are wildly popular.
Books like ACOTAR, Haunting Adeline, Fourth Wing, Crescent City, Quicksilver, the Twisted series, and the Plated Prisoner saga aren't niche anymore.
They’re dominating bestseller lists.
Many have hundreds of thousands of reviews, a few even reach the millions.
And their readers aren't just teens or casual romance fans…
They're grown women with full lives, deep responsibilities, and a shared obsession with reading about breeding kink, primal play, and bat-winged men who say things like “mine” and mean it.
And here's the twist:
Many of them are reading in secret.
On Kindles. In the bath. After their partner falls asleep.
Not because they’re ashamed, because they don't even know how to explain what it's giving them and why they enjoy it so much.
Having to justify it feels like stealing away some of the magic.
The spice levels of these genres range from steamy to “I should probably delete this from my Kindle before I go through airport security.”
And yet, we keep coming back.
Why?
Because these stories give us more than sex.
They offer a chance to explore desire in its rawest, most imaginative forms.
A way to feel chosen, wanted, devoured… even if our real-life relationships are more “passive kiss on the forehead” than “I'd burn kingdoms for you.”
Romantasy and dark romance don’t just turn us on.
They reveal what we've been starved of.
The Power of Taboo and Permission
We were taught to be good.
To cross our legs, but not a prude.
To be ourselves, but not too much.
To stand up for ourselves, but always be polite.
To enjoy sex- but not too much.
To fantasize- but only if it involves candlelight, missionary, and a partner who whispers “let's make love” with no trace of irony.
And yet here we are…
Up way past bedtime, reading about degradation kinks, primal chases through forests that are probably haunted by evil spirits, and scenes where the heroine is fully aware she shouldn't want this... but she really, really does (and he probably smells it).
These books give us something many of us didn’t even realize we were missing:
Permission.
Permission to want more.
Permission to imagine something darker, rougher, riskier.
Permission to explore pleasure outside of what we were taught in sex ed, by church groups, family dynamics, or movies that fade to black the second things get interesting.
Romantasy and dark romance don't hand us sanitized, socially acceptable intimacy.
They hand us messy, feral, consuming desire.
And for many women, it feels hot af.
It's not just our arousal being stimulated… it's a type of rebellion.
Because suddenly, you're not the quiet girl who says “I'm fine” while drying dishes.
You're not asking permission.
You're taking what you want.
Or, better yet… someone's giving it to you, with teeth bared, probably some throat bobbing, and a growl coming from deep in their chest.
Finding these things exciting doesn't make you broken.
It makes you honest.
And in a world where we are all taught to fear the depth of our own desires- sexual, emotional, or otherwise- fantasy becomes a space where those desires can finally breathe.
Where the primal side of us is allowed to take up space, to prowl and play.
These stories let us reconnect with the parts of ourselves we tried to silence so that we could conform and be “normal.”
They let us say: “I want more.”
Louder.
Hotter.
And without shame.
Fantasy ≠ Real Life, But It Still Matters
This is super important, so let’s be clear:
Just because something turns you on in romantasy or dark romance doesn't necessarily mean you want it to happen in real life.
Reading about a kind of consensual, potentially grey non-consent doesn't mean you want to actually be attacked.
Being obsessed with morally grey men doesn't mean you want a toxic relationship.
Getting turned on by power dynamics, roughness, or degradation doesn't mean there's something wrong with you.
Fantasy is a sandbox.
It's a place where you can safely explore fear, surrender, intensity, or desire… without real-world consequences.
It's imaginative play for grown-ass adults who battle anxiety after too many coffees, but also want to understand their own complex inner worlds and untapped craving.
The mistake people often make is assuming that if a story arouses you, it must be a desired blueprint for your actual sex life.
It's not.
Fiction gives us the freedom to:
Touch taboo from a safe distance
Play out scenarios that would actually feel terrifying in reality
Discover turn-ons without needing to explain or justify them
(And if you're starting to notice certain fantasies or cravings showing up more often, my Yes / No / Together / Solo workbook is a gentle, zero-pressure way to explore what actually feels good to you in real life. It's like consent, clarity, and curiosity had a love child.)
And the fact that we're choosing it?
That's what makes it feel safe.
That's where our power lives.
There's a big difference between enjoying dominance in a novel and desiring disrespect in a relationship.
There's a difference between craving chaos on the page and wanting your nervous system overwhelmed in your actual body.
Fantasy lets us feel things fully- aroused, wanted, scared, powerful, destroyed, chosen- and then gently close the book.
That feeling of choice is absolutely everything.
Sometimes, reading fiction is the first time we even notice we want those things at all.
Maybe our relationships have felt dry and predictable, but the pages we're turning are leaving us hot and bothered.