Possible trigger warning - Very mild hints at Norma's history of sexual violence. Will be more implicit mentions in future chapters.

Alex Romero had kissed Norma Bates a grand total of four times. The first was on their wedding day, and he had smiled against her mouth as she had leaned into him to deepen the kiss, just as he had pulled away. The second was a mere ten minutes later, after all the paperwork had been signed and she was officially his (on paper anyway).

"It has to look real." He had said, after suggesting he should move in with her. A small voice in his head reminded him that the town's entire economy had been the drug trade for decades, and that no-one would care about a fake marriage, but he ignored it, continuing to push when she looked hesitant.

"Don't make me regret doing this." He was being a dick and he didn't know why, but she was agreeing before he could figure it out, and he suppressed the small smile that tugged at his lips at the idea of moving in with Norma Bates. Casting a conspicuously shifty glance up the steps behind her, he swooped in to press a brief press against her lips, as if the whole town were waiting for their show. It would only take her glancing over her shoulder to realise that there were precisely zero people watching them, but thankfully she was too shell-shocked to notice and he stalked away before she could react.

The third time he had kissed her, he had meant it. And he suspected, she hadn't. All he had wanted to do was somehow find the right words to make everything ok again, but talking had never been his strong suit and he found himself at a loss.

"He's an eighteen year old kid." -Who you were afraid of. Who lost his mind. Who was found cornering you in your basement with a gun in his hand. Who scares even me sometimes. He left all of that unsaid.

"He's mad right now. He's gonna get over it." He said, immediately cursing how pathetic the words sounded now he had said them outloud. Like she had taken away Norman's car keys or told him he couldn't go to a party, not committed him to a mental asylum.

"It's so scary." Her voice broke as she folded herself into his arms, like she had done it a thousand times.

She's not really your wife. She's just using you. The spiteful voice in his head told him. He tried to ignore it.

Once again, his words felt weak and useless so he let his hands say what he couldn't, pulling her as close to him as possible, his fingers resting on the back of her neck, moulding her to him.

Don't get used to this. It won't last. Said that voice again, just as Norma's nose brushed against his, close enough to feel the wetness of her tears on his skin. The atmosphere changed abruptly and he froze, trying to keep up with the ever changing moods of Norma Louise Bates. He stayed perfectly still, not wanting to spook her, desperately trying to figure out what the right thing to do was, as her lips inched closer and closer to his.

They made tentative contact, and he resolved to kiss her back for only a moment. She was hurting and just needed to be close to someone right now. The kiss was soft and not unlike the first kiss they'd ever had, their first kiss as man and wife only a day before, and in that span of maybe three seconds, he made a plan - a definitive plan that he would not deviate from. He would kiss her back softly, then press a kiss against her forehead and fold her up in his arms for another hug. She would be comforted, and no lines would be crossed. Maybe he would make her a cup of tea after that, he thought idly to himself, trying to ignore the feel of her insistent press of her lips against his.

Alex didn't know why the feel of her hand grasping at the side of her face made him instantly forget the plan, but it did. One minute he was barely kissing her back, the next he felt her hand grasping at his jaw and he could do nothing but kiss her the way he had wanted to kiss her for months, the way he had nearly kissed her that night they had fought at his house. She'd been crying then too, he thought, the salty taste of her tears on his lips reminded him and he pulled back sharply.

"I don't think we should do this." He said unconvincingly.

"I wanna do this." She whispered back breathlessly, winding an arm round his neck, pulling her flush against him. The move reminded him of the calculated vulnerable little sex kitten act he'd seen her pull with other men, one he knew she used often.

"Don't play with me." He said without thinking. He didn't want to be just another man that Norma Bates used to her advantage. He wanted to be more than that.

"I'm not. I'm not..." She breathed, her fingers toying with the hair at the back of his neck, her breasts heaving against his chest.

All it took was the feeling of the cold metal of her wedding ring brushing against his neck and a muttered assurance that she was sure she wanted to do this "right now" for his resolve to break, and it was all he could do not to take her against the doorframe right then and there. He finally kissed her back the way he wanted to, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, his fingers tangling into her hair, finally letting go of the tension and relaxing his body into hers. Sighing into his mouth, she pulled back a little, as if she were going to lean back against the doorframe and Alex knew he would not be able to resist if she did, so he reached down suddenly and swept her legs out from under her, determined to make it to the bedroom.

She was light as a feather in his arms, but he still marvelled at the speed his 47 year old body reached as he took the steep stairs two at a time, only slowing on the last few steps when he remembered how precious the cargo in his arms was. Nothing like falling down the stairs to kill the mood.

Trying to ignore the way her teeth were nipping at his earlobe, he kicked open the door to his room, taking a deep breath to steady himself as he jerked his ear away from her ministrations. He smiled down at her, and she smiled dreamily back at him as he gave the underside of her knee a reassuring squeeze.

"Mrs Romero," he said pointedly, taking a very deliberate step across the threshold of the room.

The smile on her lips faltered for only a second, before she wriggled slightly, motioning for him to put her down. Setting her gently on her feet, he wondered if he hadn't spoilt the mood, watching as she smoothed down her dress for a moment, her gaze cast to the floor.

She sniffled softly, before casting her eyes back up at him, a predatory glint now sparkling there.

"I told you, Sheriff Romero. I'm keeping my name." She murmured huskily, her hands reaching up for him once again. She kissed him hungrily, all the tentativeness of their encounter downstairs now forgotten, pushing her body insistently against his, her hands working his shirt buttons open before he could properly react.

He was slammed back against the doorframe before he knew it, and he jerked his head back to glance at her questioningly, her only reply a dangerous smirk as her hands deftly unbuckled his belt buckle. Something had changed as they had crossed the threshold to this room, and only Norma seemed to know what. And she showed no signs of letting him in on this abrupt atmosphere change as she slipped her hand into his open jeans, grasping him firmly, her mouth still moving aggressively against his. He gasped into her mouth, his grip on the tops of her arms tightening, as he felt her smile triumphantly, her fingers moving over him through his boxers.

His mind blurring at the feel of her hand on him, he moved his own hands from where they were gripping her arms tightly to the buttons on her neat shirt dress, repressing the urge to rip the prim little thing right off her. His fingers trembled as he fumbled to undo the top few buttons, growling quietly as he encountered a skinny little belt with the tiniest clasp he'd ever seen. He broke the kiss for a moment to gaze at it with undisguised frustration as he struggled to get it undone, trying not to be distracted by the glimpse of black lace that was peeking out from the top half of the dress that he had managed to successfully un-do.

She let him fumble with the belt for a moment more, her fingers tightening as they increased their pace, making him lose concentration once more.

"Wai-" He started to say, tugging pointedly at the little strip of black leather before she cut him with an irritated sigh.

"Leave it." She murmured. He glanced at her questioningly, his hand grabbing hers suddenly, stopping her movements before this was over before it had begun. "Leave it on." She breathed out huskily, jerking her head down towards the offending belt. Later on, he would wonder why she didn't just undo the belt herself. Later on, it would haunt him that she didn't want to take her dress off in front of him, that she would only offer him that tantalising glimpse of her cleavage peeking out from the open top of that damn shirt dress, when she could have undone that stupid belt in a heartbeat and been bare to him in a heartbeat more. But before he could wonder any of this, she was snaking her hands under her dress, hooking her thumbs into her underwear and bending down to slip them off, never breaking eye contact with him. She didn't stop when she reached her ankles, her knees following her underwear to the ground, sinking to the floor in front of him, glancing up coyly at him from under her lashes.

He could only stare down at her, frozen in shock, as she grasped the waistband of his jeans, pulling them down in one swift move, her face mere centimetres from where his erection was now straining painfully against his boxers. She was close enough that he could feel her breath, hot and heavy through the thin fabric of his boxers before he snapped, reaching out and grabbing her face to stop her suddenly. The abrupt move made her jump, her eyes immediately fluttering shut and, for a second, he wanted to die for making her flinch like that.

"Sorry," he panted out. "Sorry." His thumbs stroked her cheeks tenderly. "I just... I don't want you to-"

"Ok." She cut him off, rising to her feet suddenly, her turn to make him jump this time.

"It's not that I-" He started, feeling mortified that he might have offended her. She avoided his eye contact, and he realised he couldn't remember the last time sex had been this awkward. Was he really that out of practice? She was still looking at the floor, chewing her lip nervously and for a second, he just wanted to call the whole thing off. Sex with Norma Bates was nothing like he had imagined, and he realised that was as much his fault as hers, for putting her on some kind of pedestal. He had wanted too undress her slowly, take his time with her, make love to her. This was aggressive and strange and he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. She glanced up at him, and something in her expression changed, like she could read his mind and he flushed, terrified she was going to cry.

"Norma I-"

"I want you." She mumbled, suddenly launching herself at him, her weight sending them both sprawling to the bed. Her teeth bumped against his as she kissed him ferociously, her hands tangling roughly in his hair, rubbing her body wantonly against his. His doubts now soothed, his hands grasped at her, sliding up the backs of her legs, which were now straddling his hips, pushing her dress up as he went. She swallowed his gasp when his hands settled on her bare ass, forgetting she had already taken her underwear off. She let out a soft chuckle that sounded cold and hollow to Romero's ears but he was too far gone to care now though, lost in the feeling of her grinding herself against his erection, his hands kneading into her soft flesh, urging her on.

He flipped them suddenly, rolling her underneath him, trying to regain some semblance of control of the situation. She let out a shrill squeak of surprise, an unreadable expression crossing her face for a moment before she kissed him again, battling to gain the upper hand again. Romero wasn't going to give in so easily though, as he kissed a sloppy path down her jaw, along her neck and let his teeth lightly graze her earlobe. She let out a soft, involuntary hiss and bucked her body up against him, and Romero smiled at her genuine reaction before licking the shell of her ear, his hand trailing along her thigh, towards it's destination.

"I want to taste you." He whispered sexily, expecting a shiver or a gasp at his words, surprised when he was rewarded with a noise that sounded almost like an exasperated sigh. His hand on her thigh stilled, mere inches away from her core.

"Just..." She floundered for a moment, his face still pressed against her neck. Her hands found the sides of his boxers and were pushing them down before she could verbalise the rest of her thought. "Just..." She sounded flustered, irritated almost as her feet slid along his legs to hook her toes into his boxers to pull them down the rest of the way.

"I want you to.." She seemed distressed almost, her hands grabbing at him desperately, trying to pull him against her, her fingers clawing to pull her dress up around her hips, and for a moment, he was torn. He was finding the whole situation very confusing, and wanted nothing more than to just slow down and make sure she was ok, but was also loathed to stop and deny her what she seemed to so desperately want. Her eagerness should be flattering, but something about it made him pause. Nothing about this felt right, but as he felt her thighs open up even more to him, and her mouth sucked hard on his neck, no doubt leaving a bruise to mark her territory for all the women he had mentioned the other night to see, he felt his misgivings melt away.

"Just... fuck me. Please." She whispered, and he didn't dare look into her eyes, because he selfishly didn't want to see anything that might make him want to stop. He had never denied Norma Bates anything and he wasn't going to start now, so he buried his face in her hair, and pushed into her with one smooth thrust.

She grunted, and he pulled back to look at her before he could stop himself, taking in the way her head had dropped to the side, her eyes fluttered closed, her brow lightly furrowed, her lips pressed together in a tight line.

"You ok?" He panted out, stilling his movements.

Her eyes flew open, focusing on the wall for a second before her head snapped back to him, a tight smile plastered across her face.

"Mm hm," she murmured brightly, nodding.

Unconvinced, Alex let out a sigh, and moved to pull out of her, when her hands shot out to clutch at the sides of the shirt he was still wearing, stopping his movements.

"Don't-" She started, as she hooked her legs behind his. Squeezing her thighs to urge him on, he reluctantly slid back into her, as gently as he could.

"Ohhhh," she breathed out, letting her head drop back against the pillow.

His concerned expression softened slightly as he watched her face, slowly thrusting out and in once more as gently as he could. His fingers clutched at his shoulders, her thighs coming up to rest either side of his hips as she let out another soft moan. He let his head drop to her shoulder as he continued to move as gently as he could bear for a few more thrusts.

"Oh Alex." She breathed out against his ear, soft and breathy and just like she knew he wanted to hear. "More."

He pushed into her more insistently and she mewled softly in the back of her throat, a noise she had first learned men had liked with her first husband.

"Harder." She panted out, her eyes glued to the ceiling. Romero obliged, like he always did, pressing her body harder into the mattress with every thrust, his hand squeezing the side of her hip, the other tangling in her hair.

"You good?" He murmured against her cheek and the question was so innocent, so full of hopeful expectation and genuine concern that she could have cried there and then, answering only with a shrill sob sound because she didn't trust herself to speak.

His movements grew more frenzied, more erratic, and she could feel the trembling tension in the muscles in his back. She knew what he wanted. Not all men were bothered, but she knew Romero would be One Of Those Guys, and she almost rolled her eyes at the sadness of it all, thinking how different things could be, if only she wasn't like this, and her life hadn't been like this, and she knew a different way to show gratitude to the only man who had never tried to take what she wanted to give him for real.

Staring blankly at the wall, she dug her fingers into his shoulders as hard as she could, letting a string of strangled moans, breathless sighs and "Oh God!"s tumble from her lips. Feeling him smile proudly against her neck, she hated herself for not letting him just make her feel the way he thought he was.

Why can't you let go? Why can't you let yourself be vulnerable with this? You can trust him.

The last one you trusted tore your clothes off you and gave you Dylan, said that bitter voice in her head, the ugly one that said the things she didn't want to think about. She pushed the thought away.

"Oh! Alex!" She screamed, finishing her performance piece with the deliberate use of his name. It had the intended effect, and he shuddered in her arms, groaning as he shivered his way through his last few erratic thrusts, eventually going limp on top of her, using the last of his strength to hold the majority of his weight off her. She wished he'd selfishly collapsed on her, she wished he would keep his weight on her until she could barely breathe, and then roll over and go to sleep, because then she would be proved right and she would feel better about herself. But he didn't. He kept his weight off, and took a few deep breaths, laughing happily into her hair, before pulling back and peppering her whole face with soft kisses, kisses she didn't deserve.

He brushed an errant tendril of hair from her eyes, frowning down at the lost expression on her face.

"You ok?" He meant it. He genuinely cared if she was ok. She hated him. She hated herself.

"I..." She started, not sure what she wanted to say. She smiled helplessly up at him, lost for words.

He mistook it for elation.

"Me too." He admitted, smiling at her again, before kissing her, sweetly and gently. He rolled off her but kept his arms wrapped round her and for a second, Norma forgot about everything and just wanted to sleep, safe and protected in the arms of her husband, and pretend she was just a normal wife. But she glanced down before she could stop herself, and remembered who she was. Her shirt was splayed open, one shoulder pulled halfway down her arm, her skirt was bunched up around her waist, and she still had her boots on. Romero's boxers were down by the foot of the bed, his shirt was still on, just hanging undone and a little creased now. His mouth was smeared with her lipstick and there was a hickey blossoming just under his jaw. A hickey! She was a grown adult woman, giving someone a hickey! She tried to remember the last time she had actually given someone a hickey, feeling ridiculous as she stared at the small bruise, before realising it had probably been Caleb, during one of their last desperate teenage fumbles.

The thought made a physical pain bloom in her chest and for a second she thought she might be sick as the memory washed over her. She sat up abruptly, pushing his hands off her, taking a deep breath as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"Norma?" He was at her side in an instant, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"What's wrong? Did I-?" She cut off whatever he was about to ask before he could even verbalise it. He had done nothing wrong.

"No. No. I'm fine. I-" She turned to look at him, biting her lip when she made eye contact with him to stop every thought and feeling she was having tumbling out of her mouth.

"It's just... It's just alot, ya know." She offered vaguely, smiling softly at him and shrugging.

He nodded solemnly.

"Yeah."

The silence stretched on for a moment too long.

"Alex?" She started timidly. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but.. I... I'm going to go and sleep in my room."

His face crumpled for a second.

"No, no!" She brought her hands up to cup his face, making him look at her. Please don't hate me, she thought, I just can't sleep here because I need to cry for at least an hour and I can't explain why to you. "It's not you. I just... This is alot." She repeated her sentiment from earlier. "It's alot. And it's great but I... I need a little bit of space."

There was a pause, where Alex looked like he didn't believe her, like he could see right through her and he knew she was a mess and he wanted to fix her and he didn't know how, but then he smiled softly at her.

"Is that ok?" She asked shyly.

"Of course. I understand." He looked like he didn't understand at all.

"It's your house... I get it." He gallantly managed to keep any trace of bitterness out of his words. "Go, sleep, take some time. I'll see you tomorrow." He kissed her on the forehead, and Norma sprang up before he could see the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes, wrapping her shirt dress tightly around herself.

"Oh!" She paused in the doorway, her back to him. "What do you like for breakfast?"

He chuckled.

"I'll eat anything. Like I said, I'm an easy room-mate."

She said nothing, just made a move to close the door behind her.

"Goodnight Mrs Romero."

She didn't make it another step before the tears began to fall, and they didn't stop till twenty minutes before she started cooking every breakfast food in her kitchen.

AN: You can either take this as a one-shot, an angst ridden account of their first time together, with no resolution or happy ending (I wouldn't judge you for that - I LOVE a smutty, depressing one shot!) or you can wait for the next chapter, where this story will continue to be super angsty for at least a few more chapters, but it's going to go in a very different direction in the show. Spoiler alert - It's actually gonna get kinda fluffy in the end, but there's ALOT of heartache and sexually charged arguing before then. So keep reading if you wanna find out if Alex ever figures out she was faking it, or just enjoy this as a standalone piece. Either way, let me know what you think. Reviews are love!