You and Fyodor were having a Decay of Angels’ meeting. Everything was planned smoothly until…

Fyodor decided that he’d mess with you a bit, before he puts his pale, slender hand in the pocket of his coat and starts to increase the setting of the— Ahem, ‘toy’ he had put on you.

Beep Beep Beep

A few, almost unnoticeable beeps were made by the remote of the ‘toy’, increasing its setting to a higher one as Fyodor stayed nonchalant— You swore you could see a small faint smirk on the Russian’s lips.