A/N: Based on a tumblr prompt and I thought I'd post it here. Hope you like it and if you do, leave a review! (that almost rhymed). Okay on to where the real fun begins.

Toby Cavanaugh was not a violent kind of guy. As a matter of a fact, any type of violence he had ever done, was only to protect the one girl he would do anything for. But right now his blood was boiling and he was pretty sure that whoever dared to cross his path, would end up severely injured.

Truth was, he had never expected his date with Spencer to turn out the way it did. A disaster. After the two lovebirds decided to spend some quality time together, they decided to get ice-cream at the Rosewood plaza in the town center, and that was when they ran into the Rosewood's most famous doctor.

Toby's heart was still pounding roughly as he abruptly pulled over in front of his loft. The girl sitting next to him hasn't said a single word due to the fact that he didn't take her home, in fact she kept silent ever since they got into the truck.

Maybe it wouldn't have been such a catastrophe if Spencer hadn't left the two alone to get ice-cream; if Wren didn't decide to push the limits of Toby's nerves by mentioning his encounter with Spencer while Toby was "away" and the kiss, that according to him, he hasn't been able to forget. And to Toby's and also Spencer's rage, he also indicated the possibility of something else that might have or might not have happened between them.

So, no. Toby was definitely not a violent person, but who could blame him for wishing he could put his hands around the fancy doctor's neck and strangle him right then and there in the middle of the plaza. Instead he opted to leave upset, with Spencer trying to follow him, firstly trying to talk to him and then just shutting up when they got to the truck.

When they got out of the car, his fists were still clenching together. They entered the loft, in almost unnatural silence. Spencer could clearly see how angry Toby was and she had no idea how to calm him down.

"Toby." She said in a small voice, hoping that the ride home had calmed him down.

"Don't. Not now."

"Yes now. Nothing happened. It was one kiss, everything else is purely his imagination." She promised him, staring fiercely into the ocean of blue, darkened by the anger. He let out a sigh, suspiciously sounding like the sigh of relieve.

"I was in a bad place then. I was trying to prove to myself that I could feel that again. That I could feel anything again. But I just went numb. It seemed like my heart was still beating but it didn't seem to work properly. I was just numb."

His breathing was now slightly calmed and he finally turned his head up to look back at her. There were tears in her eyes. It seemed that no matter what he did he couldn't avoid to make her cry.

"I just… I can't imagine you with anyone else." The words came out stronger that he meant for them to be, harsh but with the tone of sincerity she couldn't deny. A small smile flickered across her face, while realizing how jealous her boyfriend was, even of a mere possibility of her being with another man.

"But you don't have to. Because you're the only one I have ever belonged to. That I ever will." Her big brown eyes that were before filled with tears were now reflecting the passion those words were said with. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, so many things she didn't want to leave unsaid, but there was something else she felt. The urge to show him, just how his she really was.

So instead of saying anything and keep arguing she grabbed his shirt to pull him closer into the kiss. Their lips crushed against each other as they filled the kiss with everything they felt. The next thing she knew, he slammed her against the wall, gently enough not to hurt her, but not in his usual gentleman style. She gasped in surprise but found herself enjoying being manhandled. Then his hands were all over her body as if he wanted to feel all of her at once, and she wrapped her legs around him while his lips made a trail of passionate kisses, fast kisses, making her whimper against his neck.

Spencer found his t-shirt awfully disturbing all of the sudden, because it prevented her from feeling his bare chest under her fingers. So she desperately pulled it over his head, while he was clutching her shirt, trying to un-tuck it from her skirt.

Their eyes met for a split second and he was trying to find some sort of confirmation in her eyes; the last thing he wanted was to hurt her, and he found what he was looking for, hidden behind the veil of lust and desire that clouded her beautiful copper eyes. He realized then, that her need was no smaller than his and with that realization he started to unbutton the shirt she was wearing. After he groaned in frustration, Spencer was the one to rip it open, in an excessive need to feel his hands on her. Any pretense of reason any of them possessed melted away. Their lips met again and she let her shirt fall down onto the floor. Her skin felt as if it was on fire, and his touch felt almost electrifying.

They were past going to the bedroom, they were past being decent and they were definitely past asking each other for permission, so she moved her hands lower until she felt the zipper. She pulled it down.

Their breathing was heavy and he groaned when he felt her hands. In one swift movement he pulled her skirt up to the hips, exposing her almost entirely. After that, it didn't take them long to get out of the rest of the clothes. Spencer let out a loud moan when his fingers found her spot, making sure she was ready before he filled her up. Her head fell back and they started moving in sync just as they always did. Their groans got simultaneous; their movements faster, harder.

And in the moment she reached completion, when everything was clouded and all she could hear was her own heartbeat, it was his name she screamed out. It was him she kissed; his neck was the one her head fell on as she breathed heavily. She felt complete, right there, half naked, her back against the wall, her eyes clouded with the ecstasy. No matter what they did, whether they cuddled and he was the sweet carpenter, or they had hot passionate sex against the wall that made her see stars, it didn't matter. It was him she belonged with, it was him who made her feel like home.

Their eyes met and she smiled at him mischievously.

"I would apologize, but I'm not really sorry." He said, putting her down until her feet reached the floor.

She could barely stand, and it took her a few seconds until she could feel her limbs again.

"Neither am I."