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 might mean something in you is waking up.

• Fantasy isn't a blueprint for your real-life sex life. It's imaginative dress-up for your desire—no risk, no shame, just exploration.

• We need both novelty and safety to feel erotic energy. These books give us a safe place to explore newness, risk, and intensity.

• Even the darkest fantasies don’t mean you want them in real life. They're a way to process, feel, and reclaim power on your terms.

• For trauma survivors, fiction can be healing. The control, consent, and agency on the page can reignite parts of ourselves we thought were lost.

• Your turn-on is yours. You don't have to explain it. Just follow it—with curiosity, compassion, and maybe a very well-hidden Kindle.

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.

The Psychology of Why It Turns Us On

So, what's actually happening in our brains when we're turned on by morally grey fae males with control issues and insanely good abs?

To answer that, I reached out to my close friend who is a Doctoral and Clinical Fellow at Cambridge Health Alliance & Harvard Medical School. She said something that really stuck with me:

“These books provide a safe space to explore fantasies—but they also give us novelty. And humans need both novelty and safety to feel erotic energy. That's something Esther Perel talks about a lot, too. But in real-life relationships, especially where there's trauma or attachment wounds, we often lean heavily into safety… and the excitement part fades.”

Let's think about that for a minute.

Our daily lives are filled with routines that give us a sense of predictability. For a lot of us, our relationships also prioritize stability. Safety. Consistency.
All of which are beautiful… but none of which necessarily fan the flames of eroticism.

Reading romantasy or dark romance gives us access to something different.
It's not a real-life risk. It's imaginative dress-up for the psyche.

We get to try on wild, uninhibited, sometimes dark or dangerous fantasies, all without consequences.
We get to explore power, surrender, risk, and control, in a world where we are the ones choosing to open the book.

Just like putting on a costume for an event or costume party, reading these stories gives you the freedom to become someone else for a little while.

And that someone?
They might be ravenous. Powerful. Tender. Kinky. Curious.
They might want things that your real life hasn't made space for yet.
And through the lens of fiction, we get to feel it all… safely.

That's the power of these genres.
Not just the arousal. But the access.
Not just the stories. But what they unlock.
Not just stability. But wild untamed experiences.  

From Trauma to Turn‑On: Romance as Reclamation

Not everyone who reads dark romance has trauma in their past.
But for a lot of us, these books do more than just turn us on… they turn something back on what we thought was gone forever.

I wasn't sure I'd feel that way.

Given my own past experiences with sexual assault and rape, I honestly thought dark romance would be overwhelming.
Too much.
Too triggering.
Too close to the edge of what I've spent years of my life (and a lot of therapy) learning to feel safe around.

But I was actually really surprised.

These books didn't re-traumatize me at all.
They gave me a space to explore power, surrender, and intensity in a way that felt controlled, intentional, and, most importantly, chosen.
I could put the book down at any time. I could remove myself from the experience anytime it felt overwhelming.

Sexual trauma, emotional neglect, chronic disconnection… these leave us feeling like our sexual desires and arousal are broken, unsafe, or out of reach.
So when we read a story where the heroine rediscovers her own hunger, where she learns to trust herself again, where she isn't punished for wanting… something inside pays attention.

These books become more than entertainment.
It becomes evidence that our erotic self is still smoldering deep below the surface.
It shows us that with a little space to breathe we can still feel, finally overcoming the numbing that we thought we'd have to just have to learn to live with.

I wrote more about this idea of thawing out and reconnecting to pleasure last autumn in this blog about shifting your energy through pleasure… especially if you’ve been feeling numb or disconnected from your body lately.

Robin Lovett, a survivor who wrote about her healing journey in Publishers Weekly, described how romance novels became one of the most vital parts of her recovery.
She shared that choosing to open a book felt like an act of consent.
That reading stories where women had agency, pleasure, and safety- especially through predictable happy endings- offered her comfort that nothing else could.

That landed for me.

I didn't start reading romantasy and dark romance until many years into my healing journey, but I absolutely relate.

Because that's the thing about fiction.
It lets us practice feeling.
It lets us experience intimacy and arousal without risk.
It lets us imagine safety, pleasure, and even power… maybe even before we're ready to experience those things in reality.

And maybe, most importantly, these novels often offer trauma survivors what trauma took away: agency.

In these stories, the heroine's needs matter.
Her pleasure is prioritized.
Her voice is heard.
Even in the dark stuff, even when the plot gets spicy or twisted or raw, she gets to choose.
We get to choose.

That choice is radical.
That choice is healing.
That choice returns the sense of agency that might have been taken from us.

Read the Smut. Reclaim Your Spark.

If you've mad it this far, you are clearly a person of taste: probably also halfway through a romantasy series and fully turned on by this blog!
Here's what I want you to know:
There is nothing wrong with you for being turned on by books that push the boundaries.
For craving fantasy that's fierce, wild, consuming… or even confusing.
For finding pieces of yourself in heroines who want more and get it.
For maybe not even understanding why you enjoy these books so much.

You don't have to explain your turn-ons to anyone.
You don't have to justify why your arousal lives in the grey zones.
You're allowed to explore what turns you on… whether it stays on the page or eventually makes its way into your body.

Reading dark romance doesn't make you broken.
It doesn't mean something's wrong.
It might actually mean that something inside you is waking up.

And that? That's worth celebrating.

So go ahead.
Read the smut.
Highlight the spicy scenes.
Get curious.
Get turned on.
Play.
And remember- fantasy is yours to explore.
No guilt. No shame. Just choice, play, and possibility.

P.S. If You Love Spicy Books… I'm Guessing You Might Also Love to Journal…

If your Kindle is full of morally grey men and feral mating bonds, there’s a good chance your Notes app is chaotic too.

I am currently obsessed with writing on 750words.com

Whether you explore these through your notes app, try this epic site I love, or have an old school favorite pen and blank pages, here are some journal prompts to explore what your smut might be trying to say to your soul:

Where in my life do I wish I felt more chosen, more powerful, or more free?

You don't have to have answers.
Just the curiosity to explore your own personal world of romantasy and dark romance.