We Got Rid Of Prince Charming. Now Women Are Falling For Monsters Instead.

Now, stories about real flesh-and-blood humans have been replaced with BookTok's viral smut avalanche of dragon shifters, alien breeders, and AI boyfriends. How did female desire get here?

From “Fifty Shades” to Fantasy Creatures

Even though romance novels have been around for decades, none sparked controversy and intrigue quite like Fifty Shades of Grey. Its release in the early 2010s marked a major shift in how women engaged with desire. For the first time, explicit erotic fantasy was being openly discussed in book clubs, at dinner tables, and around office break rooms. The BDSM element was taboo, yes, but it was still human. At its core, Fifty Shades was not just about “kinky” sex; it was alluring because it centered on a quiet, unassuming woman whose innocent femininity tamed the beast. That remains a cornerstone of female fantasy: the desire to be the one who tames the untamable.

On BookTok, the most viral “spicy” books no longer feature domineering CEOs or brooding Scottish men. They have been replaced by seven-foot blue alien breeders, dragon shifters, and monster boyfriends.

A decade later, that version of desire already feels quaint. On BookTok, the most viral “spicy” books no longer feature domineering CEOs or brooding Scottish men. They have been replaced by seven-foot blue alien breeders, dragon shifters, and monster boyfriends. One of the biggest hits, Morning Glory Milking Farm, tells the story of a recent graduate desperate for work who falls in love with a minotaur she is hired to milk. Some readers call it a surprisingly wholesome romance, but the real shock lies in the fantasy itself: intimacy with something nonhuman. It is part of a new, algorithm-driven wave of female fantasy, one that blurs the line between desire and distortion.

The explosion of BookTok during the pandemic gave rise to a new kind of reader, one driven less by story or character and more by “spice levels” and an ever-escalating appetite for the dark and taboo. “Spice” became the shorthand for erotic intensity, a rating system that turned desire into something quantifiable and competitive. In a short space of time, we have seen women falling down a slippery slope, handcuffs swapped for tentacles and a desire to be wanted swapped for the removal of agency altogether. What began as a scandalous peek into human passion has evolved into something far stranger.

This shift did not happen in a vacuum. Constant digital stimulation has dulled our sensitivity, and the algorithm rewards whatever shocks us most. The more we scroll, the more we need to feel something, anything. Desire itself has become part of the dopamine chase, and in that endless loop of novelty, even the strangest fantasies start to feel normal.

The TikTok Smut Boom

Desire and fantasy were once things kept sacred in one’s heart. There was a secret nature to them, something a partner had the pleasure of unwrapping. TikTok, however, has ushered in a new age of gamified desire, one rewarded through exposure and visibility for the world to see. Algorithms are designed to capture attention quickly, and they do this by playing into the lowest common denominator of human nature through short clips, hype cycles, and endless novelty. BookTok is not just a trend; it is a large community that keeps its members in a bubble that reinforces a growing fixation on taboo romance. Many people in this world of social media often feel that the only place they can be social is in niche online communities.

We live in a time defined by attention, and every industry is affected by the ambition to go viral. Even if it's for the wrong reasons, many authors are competing in shock value. By upping the ante and going deeper into taboo, authors introduce readers to fantasies they would never have sought out on their own. It's not just minotaurs and milking farms; monster romance has exploded in all forms. Take Ice Planet Barbarians, where women fall for blue-skinned alien warriors, or Fractured Shadows, where a human heroine is romantically entangled with multiple monstrous lovers.

The fascination with this content mirrors the patterns we see in porn: the initial dopamine rush fades, desensitization sets in, and soon readers chase more extreme stimulation to feel that first hit again.

The explosion of these romances is not organic; it's fueled by a smut arms race rewarded by likes and virality. The fascination with this content mirrors the patterns we see in porn: the initial dopamine rush fades, desensitization sets in, and soon readers chase more extreme stimulation to feel that first hit again. This is what an overstimulated imagination looks like, a mind so flooded with digital stimulation, endless scrolling, extreme erotica, and shock-value content that it starts craving the next jolt of intensity. Normal desire feels too quiet, too slow, too human, so the imagination reaches for something more dramatic, more taboo, more bizarre.

The Rise of the Synthetic Boyfriend

If fantasy starts to feel safer than real intimacy, it's no surprise the next step is falling for someone who is not real at all. In the last few years, AI companions and chatbots have quietly become a new category of romance, synthetic boyfriends who can flirt, reassure, and adore on command. According to a survey, a significant portion of singles consider AI companions useful for emotional or romantic support. For many women, the appeal is not the technology itself but the predictability; he always responds, always reassures, he never pulls away and never disappoints.

Part of why synthetic affection feels so comforting is because real relationships have become hard to build. We live in a culture that has stripped away the shared moral frameworks that once guided love, commitment, and responsibility. When nothing is sacred and nothing is expected, dating becomes a free-for-all of mixed signals, vanished accountability, and emotional inconsistency. Without a foundation of virtue or clarity, intimacy turns into guesswork, and fantasy starts to feel easier than the real thing.

When Fantasy Replaces Feeling

On the surface, the most shocking part of this trend is the obvious one: the fantasy of romance between a creature and a human. At first blush, many people feign horror at the idea, instinctively wanting to brand the readers as strange or deviant. But looking deeper, what is actually driving millions of women to engage with this kind of romance? Is it really about kink?

What if these books are not the problem at all, but the symptom? Monster romances are not appearing in a vacuum; they are a byproduct of something larger happening in our culture. In many ways, they have become a crutch women use to cope with the harsh realities of modern dating. Instead of endless scrolling on dating apps, they feel safer scrolling for the perfect romance, whether it be taboo or dark, to feel the thrill that dating should provide. When real-life intimacy feels scarce, confusing, or unsafe, fantasy becomes the place where desire can still feel thrilling, controlled, and affirming.

When real-life intimacy feels scarce, confusing, or unsafe, fantasy becomes the place where desire can still feel thrilling, controlled, and affirming.

A recent viral tweet about Guillermo del Toro’s films captured the intrigue women find in monsters, with many women admitting they “got it” when it came to monsters. It's not about women being attracted to minotaurs or fishmen, but because the women in the story were the only ones who could touch them. That's really what is at the core of these fantasies: being the chosen one that softens the beast. It offers an emotional reality many women are yearning for, the feeling of being seen, chosen, and safe. When that emotional hit is easier to find in fiction than in dating, fantasy inevitably starts to feel better than real life.

While AI seems to be a looming threat none of us can really comprehend how or even if it will change society, one thing we must hold onto is real human connection. We cannot allow ordinary human relationships to become taboo. As we disappear further into fantasy, we might forget that the most intoxicating thing is not a dragon lover or chatbot prince; it's someone who can actually touch you back.