#genophobia -

[prettypupp]

they should invent a testosterone that, instead of making me horny 24/7, forces me to work through the reasons why im terrified of sex and being physically intimate with others.

[lavenderr-starrs]

[gazmembrane777]

[javiar]

AAD

GENOPHOBIA "Strict Upbringing"

[poolboyservice]

shout out to the aros, the aces, the philopobes, and the genophobes

may we rule tomorrow!

[prettypuppxx]

theres no way im the only person with genophobia/erotophobia on this site.... theres no way... yall are just hiding from me

i dont understand sexual stuff, masturbation is painful, and my genophobia/erotophobia doesnt make it any better

idk why i made an nsft blog in the first place honestly its frustrating not understanding how to properly respond to asks on top of my erotophobia screaming at me and making me want to cry everytime i get a sexual ask or dm

[tamlytrilieunhcvietnam]

Hội chứng sợ tình dục (Genophobia) là một trong những chứng bệnh thường gặp hiện nay. Là một dạng của rối loạn lo âu, khiến bệnh nhân không thể tham gia các hoạt động liên quan đến tình dục. Điều này gây ra những hệ quả nghiêm trọng và ảnh hưởng đến cuộc sống thường ngày của bệnh nhân.

[localmutantlesbian]

One of the things genophobes don't seem to understand is that, especially in the mid to late 1900s, mutants aren't some secret separate part of society. They are part of society. Many think they're human until they're 12 or 13. This argument that mutants are just out there, waiting to destroy humans and the societies they've built, fails to realize that we live in society.

Yes there will be mutants who use their powers to commit crimes, to cause chaos, to start shit. But when you alienate the entire mutant community by targeting us as if we are all trying to destroy the world, there'll be no one to help you stop mutants who do want to cause harm 🤷‍♂️

[u-friend-or-ufo]

Am I really asexual?... or just have genophobia?

[prettypupp]

i think the only reason im not completely sex repulsed is because i love attention and doing research on things i probably shouldnt be viewing as research subjects

[gazmembrane777]

I love her

[fieriframes]

[Genophobias.]

[reiderwriter]

Hi :) I've never requested before and am a little embarrassed to be here. But I'm also in my Spencer Reid Brainrot era and am a fan of your writing! I was thinking something with a virgin female reader who is genophobic (specifically fear of vaginal penetration, in her case) and Spencer helps her work through her fear and try something new? She doesnt need to have trauma, just the phobia. Either BAU or non BAU reader is fine, just as long as they aren't initially dating and there is a slow build up to the intimacy. Also, could it be race-blind? (e.g "I could see she was embarrassed" instead of "her cheeks turned pink") Fluff, smut, and mutual pining. Ack, please it would make my MONTH!!

-❤️‍🩹

A/N: I really hope I did this one justice!! It was fun to research and write and ahhh the slow burn (which was definitely a lot faster than it should have been if I had more time 🫣 sorry). I hope you like it!

W/C: 5k

Warnings: Genophobia (fear of sexual intimacy), panic attack, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), virgin reader, inexperienced Spencer, two idiots in love again, vaginal sex, fingering, contraception actually used! Mainly soft and sweet sex 😊

Find my masterlist here! Get ready for kinktober with me here!

It was your worst nightmare come true.

You’d had a crush on Spencer for the last three years, working with him in the BAU since Elle had left. You’d joined the team alongside Emily and immediately become enamored with the boy genius, and how could you not? He was smart, and handsome, and most importantly, he respected boundaries.

But here he was in front of you, probably saying the words that you most wanted to hear from him, but he was so close, your heart was beating uncomfortably in your chest, your breath short and your eyes hazy and unfocused for all the wrong reasons.

“Just… If you don’t feel the same, I understand and I’ll never mention it again, but if there’s any chance that you.. That you love me the same way I love you, please tell me.” He had you boxed in against the wall, not touching you exactly, but so close you could feel his breath on your neck, could see the desperation in his eyes as he poured his heart out to you.

The man of your dreams was confessing his love to you, and you were on the verge of a panic attack at his attention.

“Spencer, I have to go,” you gasped out, grasping your chest as you begged your lungs to start working again, as you begged your mouth to stay and explain. But the tears were burning in the corners of your eyes and you had to run from the intimacy of the moment. “I have to... I’m sorry, Spencer, I can’t…” You didn’t get any other words out before you bolted out the door, desperate to find a bathroom stall to cry in. You weren’t sure if the tears were from the very real fear you’d just confronted or the realization that you’d probably just ruined your chances with Spencer Reid.

–X–

A week later, and the awkward tension between the two of you hadn’t dissipated. You wanted to explain yourself, of course, you did, but with the hurt look on Spencer’s face shooting through you every time you were at the other end of his gaze, combined with the absolute fear of being known and judged, you had guiltily kept your mouth shut.

The rest of the team had noticed, of course. The two of you were sending pining looks after one another whenever the other had their back turned, even when preoccupied with a prolific highway murderer, the team would be blind not to see it. Unfortunately for you, the members of the BAU weren’t the ones to let the tension go unconfronted, so you found yourself in increasingly solitary situations, alone but for the company of Spencer himself.

You’d been assigned to work the geographical profile with Spencer, despite usually working alongside Hotch, more used to comforting and interviewing families than analyzing charts and maps. The opportunity to explain had been handed to you on a silver platter, and you had to take it.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blurted the words out after an unbearably long silence, having watched the man read case file after case file while you distractedly bumbled along beside him.

He paused and gave a small nod, bringing his head up, but not quite meeting your gaze.

“When you… When you said those things last week, did you mean them?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Y/N.” The words were tense, but his voice was soft, his eyes holding a resigned look.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry, shit, everything I say is going to sound like an excuse but I’m so sorry…” you rambled, trying to work up the courage to say what you actually wanted to.

“You don’t have to apologize for not feeling the same way I do. It’s okay, I know I’m not the easiest person to love and-”

“You are. You are, Spencer, don’t even think that you are the problem here, because you are not.” You gasped for breath as you pushed the words out unexpectedly, surprising even yourself with the conviction of your tone.

“I love you, Spencer, I do, I just…” You blinked back the tears again as your voice suddenly became a whisper.

“You know when we talked about our… our fears a few weeks back? And I said that I didn’t have anything specific that came to mind?” He listened attentively as you stuttered out the words.

“I lied. When… people get close to me, and when they get close to me in a way that specifically suggests that… suggests that they like me the way you like me, my chest gets tight, and I can’t breathe. Spencer, I’m… I’m scared of sex.”

You let the confession hang in the air between you, almost afraid to look up and see the sympathetic look in Spencer’s eyes. But you had to eventually, and you were surprised.

The man wasn’t even looking at you, and his expression couldn’t even be described as concerned, let alone empathetic.

“Spencer? Did you hear what I said?” He looked up and smiled at you, keeping his distance still, but opening up to you, facing you with open body language, putting all his attention on you without moving even an inch closer.

“Genophobia. Y/N, you’re describing Genophobia. It’s the fear of physical intimacy that often stems from a fear of pain during sexual intimacy or from physical symptoms, such as Vaginosis. Y/N, you don’t hate me.” His grin widened, and you let out a little laugh at the hopeful look on his face as he breathed out that last statement.

“No, no Spencer, I couldn’t hate you.”

“Good, because I thought I’d taken it too far… Nevermind. Y/N, is… is this something you want to work through?” His tone was cautious, and you were touched by the seriousness he was approaching with. Your previous boyfriends had mocked you when you explained why you couldn’t have sex with them, few as they may have been. You’d never been treated with such gentleness.

“Yes. I really want to work through it, but… Spencer, it might take a long time. Is that okay?” He considered your question for a minute, then replied with his own.

“Y/N, can I lean in and kiss your cheek, please? I won’t touch you anywhere else, I just want…please?” You felt a warmth bubbling under your cheeks at the situation, your tongue growing thick in your mouth, not allowing you to respond. You opted for a small nod instead, watching his every move as he slowly moved in.

Placing his hands on the table, he lifted himself up from his chair, keeping them firmly planted there so you could see that he wasn’t going to initiate anything further. His lips finally hit your cheek, and your heart started beating in that familiar way that it usually did, but you forced yourself to hold still until he pulled away. He did so quickly.

“Y/N, I don’t care how long it takes you to be comfortable with me. I’m just happy you chose me.” He finished, then grabbed a file and exited the room, leaving you alone again to calm your heart and un-fog your brain.

–X–

The case closed a few days later, but you didn’t have another chance to talk to Spencer anymore about your relationship, being so caught up in serving justice to the families of the victims. But as Friday approached, your job was finished, an unsub handed over to the authorities ready for prosecution, and you could finally fly back home.

Which is how you found yourself, on the last evening of the work week, pacing outside of his apartment, freaking out about whether you should knock or not. You’d held your hand up to knock a few times, but ultimately let it fall to your side, cursing your cowardice. It was just a door. He was just a man. A man who really cared about you. A man who wanted you. That thought should have had you jumping into his arms at every given opportunity, instead, it was causing heart palpitations at the thought of knocking on a door.

In the end, you didn’t have to knock.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” You heard his voice from behind you as you jumped in place, startled by the fact that he was actually there.

“Shit, Spencer, don’t do that, you scared me.” You grabbed your chest and took a deep breath. He stood still, waiting for your answer to his previous question.

“I was just… Can I come in?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah of course, here let me…” His words trailed off as he grabbed his keys from his pocket, fumbling them slightly as he struggled to get the key into the door.

“Take a seat wherever you… Can, I guess? Sorry, I was doing some reading before I left.” He smiled awkwardly as you walked into the space, and you giggled a little at the confession, seeing that there was really only one open space on the couch left for you to occupy without having to perch awkwardly on the arm of the chair.

You took the seat, moving a single book onto a stack on the sofa next to you, and watched the man as he took off his scarf and coat, storing them and then awkwardly turning back to the couch. He looked around for a place to sit, and, coming to the same conclusion as you did, chose to perch himself on the opposite arm of the sofa to you.

“Oh, Spencer, this is your house, you should sit comfortably.”

“No, you’re a guest, it’s fine. I want you to feel comfortable. What did you want to talk about?” He cleared his throat a little and then turned his eyes back to you, signaling that he was ready to listen attentively.

“Oh…. I was hoping…. Spencer, can you touch me?” You saw his face flush at your suggestion, and your eyes widened at your own foolish wording.

“Shit, not like that. Not that I don’t want you to touch me like that, but I think it’s too soon, and I’m still not comfortable with that. I was just hoping that you could, you know, hold me for a while, like a hug or something?” You rambled it all out, and you could hear yourself rambling but you couldn’t stop it. The words dropped from your mouth before you could even think about stopping them, and you felt the blood rush to your head as you cringed slightly at the situation.

“Okay.”

“Okay? You’re…. You’re okay with that?” You asked, looking hopefully up at Spencer.

“Do you want to sit together, or were you thinking something else?” You jumped up from your seat then, and glanced around the room as you considered his words.

“Oh, um, sitting together would be good I suppose?” He nodded and lifted himself up from the arm, moving closer to you.

“I’m going to sit here, you should probably just join me when you want to, okay?” He whispered the words with a tender smile on his face, and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders disappear. It was incredible that he could do that with a simple smile, that with one glance he could relax your whole body enough to let you push yourself to the limits of your fear.

You gained some confidence, and after letting him get settled in the seat you had just vacated, you moved to straddle his lap. You heard his sharp intake of breath as you wrapped your arms up around his neck, nervously wondering if what you were doing was right.

“Is this okay for you, Y/N?” He asked, stuttering through the words as he struggled to stay focused on you.

“It’s okay now. I want to push myself a little.” You ran your hands down his arms, which had so far lain politely still on the sofa beside him before you pulled them around yourself, letting the hug deepen. He was warm, and between the two of you, you weren’t sure whose heartbeat was louder. You could hear both of them, the room totally still except for your breaths and blinks.

“Y/N, can I… can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You whispered the word in a voice so small, you were sure he hadn’t heard it, as his head crept towards you so slowly you were sure he wasn’t moving. Eventually, you felt his breath on your skin more, and then his lips were softly pressing against your own, the pressure gentle, not demanding any more than what you were currently giving him.

You melted into it, pushing yourself further into his warmth, your chests now pressed together as he languidly moved his lips against yours, claiming them again and again and again. You kept pushing and pushing into him, growing more sloppy in your kisses, grabbing onto the back of his sweater with two desperate fists, needing him close.

It wasn’t until your hips bucked involuntarily in his lap, unconsciously demanding friction that you began to panic once again, immediately pulling your lips and torso out of his reach.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I can’t… it’s… shit it’s not you, Spencer. God, I’m such an idiot.” You pulled your hands over your eyes, embarrassed at the thought of being seen by him right then, but still firmly seated in his lap.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said, pulling your hands away from your face with a gentle touch. “It’s okay, Y/N. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” You nodded at his words and took a few more minutes to compose yourself.

“Can we…can we just cuddle for a while? Like this?” You asked, and his smile instantly became bright.

“I would love to. Let’s move some of these books though.” You shifted the books quickly and then fell back into his lap, his body now laying more vertically than before, stretching out into the larger space now available on the couch. You pushed your head into his chest, listening to his heartbeat, following it with your own, and letting it be the soundtrack to your descent into sleep.

–X–

Waking up in his arms was a life-changing experience. Sometime during your sleep, he had carried you to his bed, letting you sleep soundly as he made you more comfortable. He hadn’t taken any of your clothes off, of course, just removed your shoes and made sure you were warm enough in the skirt and blouse you had been wearing.

Your position had changed, too, and it was one of the first things you noticed as you blinked your eyes open, trying to rid them of sleep as you greeted the new day. Instead of being below you, he was behind you, pressed against you with a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him like a child clutching a favored toy.

“Spence,” you whispered through a grin. “Spencer, wake up.” You turned your head around to him, but he moaned in his sleep, not wanting to leave his rest just yet. You giggled at his childlike petulance, trying to shift around to face him, but his grip was too tight. Pushing against him, you felt something, hard, pushing against your back. You shifted again, but it was still there, and it took you only a few more seconds to figure out what it was.

“Shit, Spencer, wake up,” your tone probably sounded more frantic than you felt, as it woke him quickly now, his body releasing yours enough to let him pull himself up, taking stock of the room as he looked around searching for what had panicked you.

“What is it, are you okay?” He returned his eyes to your face, but your gaze had slipped down his body, and through the much looser fitting sweatpants he’d thrown on at some point during the night, you could see the outline of his cock.

Curiously, the very sight didn’t have you bolting, as it had in situations in the past. You had frozen, of course, but you weren’t filled with as much dread as you had been only a few days prior with his confession.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, it’s a biological reaction and… well it’s not purely biological, I do really have feelings for you, but I don’t want you to feel pressured, and… Let me go and get rid of this.” He moved to stand, but you grabbed his arm before he could completely pull away, his hand still resting on your waist.

“Wait… Could we continue from where we were last night?” You looked up at him, the embarrassment of your words sending a rush of adrenaline through your body, almost forcing you to take them back immediately.

“You… you want that?” For the second time in 24 hours, a whispered ‘yes’ was all it took to have him crash his lips into yours. The pressure was the same, but with his body hovering over yours, it felt even more intimate. His hands rubbed small reassuring circles on your hips, as you opened up to him, wanting to pull the full force of his weight down onto you.

His hand fell to your face as he encouraged you to open your mouth to his tongue, letting him explore it thoroughly as he lazily worked his mouth against your own. There was no fight for dominance here, just two people deeply exploring the feeling of one another, so wrapped up in the pleasure that no other thoughts could cross your minds. Not even that of fear.

He pulled away for a breath, and your lips trailed him, trying to capture him again and force him back to you, but he evaded you softly.

“Y/N, can I try something? I want to touch you…more. Is that okay?” You were so desperate for the feeling of his lips against yours again that you moaned out the yes before you even processed his words. His lips fell back against yours, but his weight shifted above you as his right hand trailed down your leg and then back up underneath your skirt.

The touch was so delicate that you shivered under the attention, but you felt your heart start beating faster and faster as he got closer to your center. He asked you once again, and you agreed before he finally touched you through the safety of your panties.

You moaned into the kiss as he cupped you, letting his thumb fall to your clit and beginning to explore you more. He swallowed each and every sound you made with his lips, committing every move you made, every reaction to memory. You grew more pliable under all his attentions, growing comfortable in reacting to his every movement, letting him control the pace and flow of your shared caresses. A heat was growing at the depth of your stomach, and you knew it was coming.

Your brain finally kicked back into gear as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes jolting open as he released your mouth, the breathless moan that erupted from you causing your entire body to tense up. You pushed him away, and clutched your chest, scrambling up into a seated position as he quickly noted the change in your body language, letting you out of his grip.

You struggled to get your breathing out of control, desperately searching for a way out, an excuse, or anything to say to make you feel better, but you came up blank.

“I’m sorry… I’m really…” You couldn’t force out any other words before you jumped out of his bed and bolted out of the apartment, having ruined everything again for the second time.

–X–

Another week ticked by before you knew it, and you still hadn’t talked to Spencer since he’d pushed you over the edge. The fact that he hadn’t tried to talk to you either had you convincing yourself that it meant whatever you shared was over now.

It was a nice feeling to share, but you couldn’t keep it up forever, just like you hadn’t been able to in any of your previous relationships. But there was something about Spencer that you didn’t want to give up on, so you didn’t.

You spent the week looking up advice on how to deal with your fear, booking appointments with Sex Therapists, and, to put it kindly, getting your body used to the idea of sexual interaction. You bought a small vibrator a day or two after you slept over at his house, nothing that would enter you, just something to play with to increase your confidence as you prepared yourself to apologize to him.

But despite all of your efforts, the tension was still running high in the team as they all noticed the sudden disconnect between you and your maybe-boyfriend.

So, with the newly discovered commitment to self-improvement, you found yourself at his door again on another Friday night, this time confidently knocking at the first attempt.

“Y/N, you’re here.” He said, mouth hanging open slightly as his unasked question hung in the air.

“I wanted to talk. About everything.”

“Sure, come in, come in.” He shut the door behind you, and you didn’t bother walking further than the entryway before you started again, not wanting to lose your conviction.

“Spencer, I want you to make love to me. I freaked out last time, and I ran away, and that was so shitty of me, but I think I’m ready now - I went to see this therapist and she gave me some advice, and I’ve been… I’ve been touching myself so I can get myself used to the idea of someone else touching me. And you’re the only person who I want to touch and to touch me, and you’re everything I’ve been thinking about, and I don’t want you to avoid me anymore or think this isn’t going anywhere.” You were almost breathless as you finished, having let your sentences blur into one, not bothering to pause in your exploration.

“Oh, thank god,” Spencer said, wrapping his hands around you suddenly, pulling you to him with a strength you didn’t know he had. “Well, not thank god that you want to have sex with me, thank god that I didn’t push it too far. I thought you hated me after last time, I thought I was trying to selfishly get you to open up too quickly, and I felt so bad about it.” He rambled just the same as you had, not letting go of you for all the world.

“You know, I’ve checked out like 50 books on sexual psychology from the University library this week, I was afraid the librarian was going to call the police on me for creepy behavior or something.” He laughed into you, letting his head drop to your shoulder as he held you comfortably.

“Spencer, that is so sweet.” You felt the sugar in your grin, knowing that this unabashed happiness wasn’t going away anytime soon, any negative feelings at being held this closely dissipating when faced with the love of his actions.

“I’m going to ask again, is that okay?” You nodded at his boyish grin, and he grinned down at you fondly.

“Y/N, may I kiss-” You didn’t let him finish, pushing yourself up on your toes to lock your lips with his before he could.

“Yes. Always yes.” You said releasing him, foreheads resting together.

“I know, but I like to ask.” His lips were on you again then, as he walked you back through his apartment, not stopping once to release your lips. Before you knew it, he was picking you up, and gently returning you to the bed you’d bolted from the week before.

He released you for a breath, and you pushed your top up and off, throwing it to the ground as he stared at you like you had personally each and every star in the sky.

“You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.” He mumbled the words into your skin, before letting his hands once again fall under your skirt, beginning to massage your ass with a firm but still loving embrace. He pulled you against him again, your kisses becoming more and more needy as you felt him grow against you, with each stroke of his tongue forcing your hips to rub together deliciously.

“You know,” he spoke slowly, letting his lips fall down your neck and chest. “All of the literature I read suggested that foreplay was a good way to combat Genophobia. The more prepared you are for the actual sexual act, the less you worry about the ‘pain’ of it all.”

“What are you saying, Spencer?” You whispered, your heart beating fast, but not in an uncomfortable way anymore.

“I’m saying I want to make you feel good. Can I?” His lips had reached your skirt then, and he said the words as his head rested against your thigh, hands slowly pushing your legs wider and wider.

You nodded, and he dived in, at first licking through your underwear as you moaned and writhed underneath him. His hands worked the panties down your legs as he kissed your inner thighs, pushing your skirt up and over your hips so you could watch his every move.

“Fuck Spencer,” you ground into his face again as he returned his tongue to your now soaking hole, desperately chasing the pleasure of his attention. You’d had the time to explore this week, obviously, but it was nothing like this. Every kiss, every suck, every lick, spoke a thousand words to his devotion to you, his love being pressed into you from between your legs. You didn’t know it could be like this. You didn’t think it would be with anyone who wasn’t him.

“Spencer, I can feel it…. Spencer, don’t stop.” You worked a hand into his hair and shamelessly bucked into him now, you high hitting you just like you knew it would. If the first time had been a surprise, this time had been an inevitability. You felt him keep up his ministrations, letting you ride out the full wave of pleasure. When he finally pulled away, he looked into your eyes for confirmation that everything he’d done was okay. Moving a hand to wipe your arousal from his mouth, you stopped him mid-motion and pulled him back on top of you, wrapping your tongue around his own and delighting in the taste of his success.

“Let’s keep going,” you said softly into his ear, and he moaned his approval, before quickly divesting himself of his pants and grabbing a condom from his bedside table.

“Morgan got me a pack of these at Christmas, as a joke, y’know,” he laughed, kissing down your neck again, paying special attention to the few spots darkening to splashes of red.

“Not the time, Spencer,” you laugh at him, and he squeaks out an apology before lining himself up with you.

“You’re sure this is what you want?” He asks, a concerned look plastered on his face, and you pull him down for one short tender kiss before answering again.

“I have never been so sure of any decision I have made in my life, as I am sure about you.” He pressed a kiss to your lips in thanks and then slowly began to fill you up.

There was a small panic in the back of your mind, but he kissed praise into your skin, replacing all of your negative thoughts with nothing but his words, his actions, his love. You relaxed as he stretched you out, not moving his hips but letting his hand return between your legs to help you further adjust to the newness of it all.

You saw a panicked look fall across his face as he kissed away small tears that fell from your eyes, each a small apology for the pain, the confusion of your mixed emotions, but you just laughed his concern away.

“Happy tears, Spencer. They’re happy tears.” He laughed with you then, and with one last seeking out of your approval, you began to move together. His thrusts were slow, lavishing you with attention, letting you feel all of him as his body sought your pleasure. Your legs wrapped around him, unable to stop the desperate need to buck up, up, up with each of his downward strokes.

You were a mess of limbs and kisses, neither of you experienced enough to know how to do anything past what felt good, what felt natural, and you spent your time together like that, giggling with each chaste kiss, moaning and sighing as you both worked your way up to an ecstatic release.

Falling down on top of you after you came together, Spencer didn’t pull out, holding you somehow closer than before as you both let the oxygen return to your lungs.

“I love you,” he whispered into your lips.

“I love you,” you whispered back.

Yes, it was not going to be like that with anyone else. And you didn’t want anyone else at all, now that you finally had him.

[prettypuppxx]

im sobbing my eyes out in genuine fear at the idea of having sex

ive never had sex,i shouldnt be feeling physically sick at the idea of having sex, i dont have sexual trauma that could be causing these rractions, what is wrong with me

[shini--chan]

Hello! ✨

How would germany, prussia, france, russia and austria (all of them are 1p) deal with a lover who have genophobia? (genophobia is a serious fear of sexual intimacy)

Hello charming stranger

Yandere Hetalia - Genophobia

Trigger warnings: substance abuse, forced therapy, dub-con, non-con, murder, lobotomisation, deliberate triggering of phobias 

Austria

Roderich would be incredulous about it. First, he would doubt your condition, see it just as you dishing up fibs to avoid a normal relationship. There would be snide remarks and very mean teasing. He would calm down over time, at least a bit, and decide to test the waters to see if you're telling the truth. And to determine the severity of your condition, should you turn out to be honest.

There would be hands on your waist, wandering higher or lower than appropriate. A lot of lewd jokes would fall, and when kissing you, he would pull you closer than usual or even light bite your lip. Maybe he'll make you read some raunchy novels, or go as far as to touch you in a sexual manner while you're asleep. 

Once he'd set up the diagnosis, he'll delve straight into giving you treatment. Since he is the man that outright enjoys playing psychiatrist, you'd be subjected to the full program. A pleasant side-effect in his eyes would be that he'd get to know you so well. Furthermore, you'd be indebted to him for curing you. 

That being said, your willingness to engage in therapy, with him no less, wouldn't play a significant role in his mind. The doctor knows what's best, better than the patient does, after all. Although, should conventional methods not work, then he'll gradually become more frustrated. The more frustrated he is, the more unconventional and unorthodox his methods would become. Brainwashing isn't off the table. 

France

Francis would be aghast and irate. What happened to you that you're so scared of baring yourself to another person? Should there be a culprit, then he would tear open their throat and serve their heart to you on a silver platter, quite literally in this case. France would aim on demonstrating his dedication to you through this, that he would avenge you and hunt those that harm you to the ends of the earth. Radical and off putting? He wouldn't see it that way. 

Retributions and crimes of passion aside, he would be frustrated with your genophobia. When it comes to closer interactions, he would live in constant fear of triggering your phobia. That is something that would kill the romance for him, so he would seek ways to alleviate your fears. One of those would include romancing you so thoroughly and hard (love-bombing) that you would forget the past. At least, that would be his idea. Another would be alcohol, another carbon monoxide, and yet another making you watch pornography. 

While he does claim to be a master of romance, he is a bit too bloodthirsty and controlling to really be becoming of that title. He would yearn for the picture perfect romance with you, and your genophobia would throw a spanner in the works. So it would have to be eradicated, even if it would involve vile means. Depending on the time period, it might end up with you being lobotomized. 

Germany

Ludwig would really be a wild card in regards to this. He could be awkward, recognising you as a victim of a heinous crime and handling you as if you're made of glass. At first that is - the sentiment would wear off as time passes. 

In that state, he would be at a loss with what he should do with you. There would be fearful attempts of broaching the subject more in depth, of communicating like healthy couples should. But this isn't a healthy relationship and Ludwig is far too emotionally constipated for something like that. Perhaps the two of you would wind up going in circles around each other. Germany's attempts to help you would be downright insensitive at times, like handing you a dildo and telling you to mastrubate until you are ready for real sex. 

Or, he would go in the opposite way of trying to help you in his considerate, awkward fashion. Then, he would view you as inferior to himself, a lowly creature that has to be hammered into shape. He'd roll his eyes, snap at you to pull yourself together, even make fun of you. In war, it would even be worse than that - coercion and threats and use of force. 

Either way, in most of the cases he would end up being so frustrated and wooden and out of sorts. He would sing your praises to the heavens and condemn you to hell. To relieve some of his frustration, he'd sometimes lock himself in his office with a photo or a personal effect of yours and take care of himself. 

Prussia

Gilbert, being his frugal and monastic self, even to the modern day, wouldn't realise that you have genophobia until far into the relationship. At first, he would be relieved since that wouldn't mean he would have to put out anytime soon. However, as the relationship would progress, he would find himself becoming frisky and mulling over sleeping with you. 

Here it should be remarked that Gilbert is no psychologist and he has little tact or finesse when it comes to human interactions. This would be evident in your relationship as well. Thus, he wouldn't know how to approach the issue at first. His first approaches would be downright hilarious - if it weren't such a serious topic and if he wouldn't be yandere. 

Finally though, he would take a military approach to the matter and gradually acclimate you to being intimate with regular "exercises", where you would both gradually expand your comfort zone. If it would make you comfortable, then he'd give up all control and let you ride him like a warhorse. 

Beware though - if he'd get the feeling that you're being difficult on purpose, to be spiteful or petty or due to whatever reason, then he'll let you feel it. Prussia wouldn't coerce you into sex, however your life would become harsher and harder if you make him endure a Josephite marriage. 

Russia

Oh, when it comes to the grand picture, he would be elated at your fear of intimacy. It would mean that you aren't able to cheat on him, after all. During the beginning of your relationship he would even encourage it, and even try to use it as a springboard to make you isolate yourself even further and rely only on him. Perhaps he'd even orchestrate some incidents to induce social anxiety in you. 

That aside, you having genophobia probably means somebody hurt you in some fashion. It would be a matter that he simply couldn't leave be, and Ivan would take it upon himself to avenge you. Of course, while he would ensure that the news of that bastard's brutal demise reaches your ears, he wouldn't confess to the gruesome deep until much later. You'd have to be firmly bound to him for him to truly be open with you. 

Speaking of that, once your social life consists only of him and the company he approves of, he'd be determined to solve your problems. His approach would be that your phobia is still such a fixture in your life because you haven't found closure yet. New surroundings and a new lifestyle could help with that, or him finally coming clean in lynching the persons who harmed you. 

Though, should his initial hypothesis' bear no fruit, then he'd try more radical methods. In essence he would define the problem as your inability to relax during intimacy and that you would need help in doing so. Alcohol and opioids would be his solution here, maybe hypnosis as well.