Time to Kill

Disclaimer: Non-consensual groping (it is MGS afterall), mixture of fem/masc terms for Raikov's junk, minor needle warning.

Hours of infiltration around Groznyj Grad lead him up to this point, he had slipped past the sliding doors and promptly changed into the scientist uniform he’d received from EVA.  Slicking his thumb pad with spit to rub away any smears of dirt on the white fabric and adjusting his lensless glasses, his disguise was ready.  Prodding for the radio’s turn dial at his breast beneath the lab coat, he radioed Major Zero for a status update.

< 140.85 >

《 Major, I’ve entered the East Wing. Remind me of who I’m looking for again? 》

《 Your target is Major Ivan Raidenovich Raikov. He will be patrolling the East Wing nearby, so you must isolate and neutralise him, then take his uniform. This will grant you access to the West Wing of the Weapons Lab. You’ll know when you see him. 》

《 Right, err, got it… 》

《 You sound rather unsure, Snake. 》

《 No. I know who to look for. I’ll report back once I’ve dealt with him. 》

Naked Snake, in fact, did not know who he was looking for.

With a chagrined shake of his head, he tugged the earpiece out and tucked it beneath his lapel, straightening out his uniform one last time before he deemed himself ready to begin his hunt.

The agent strolled through the complex on the spotless linoleum tiles, hands in his pockets to appear casual, but eyes in search.  It was a very odd feeling being out in the open after all his sneaking around; it filled his chest with a light buzz of adrenaline.  Years of training had conditioned him to never let these feelings visibly show, exactly for missions like these where remaining inconspicuous was crucial.  Every guard he passed got a thorough once over with his eyes, not wanting to linger for too long and risk blowing his cover, but none of these men were his target.  Just as he thought to turn back and radio in for support, a figure caught his eye.  Snake vaguely remembered EVA showing him a photograph of Major Raikov and Colonel Volgin, so as the glinting of long silvery hair caught in the overhead lighting, he was certain this had to be the guy.

But it seemed he’d also been spotted, his assumed target was approaching.

“Hmm?~ How beautiful…” The man of similar stature cooed as he closed in, resting a hand over his slim belted waist.  The visor of his cap shadowed the sultry look beneath, his eyes raking over the scientist’s body, head to toe.

He felt his brow arch at the interest he heard in Raikov’s voice, standing stiff as a board and just hoping the other wouldn’t catch onto the fact that he did not belong.  If he didn’t move, maybe he’d turn invisible.  Gaze lingering on his ID badge, the Major leaned close to inspect,  “Ivan Voyevodavich Zmeya,”  his eyes darted from the interloper's real face and to the one on his fake ID,  “Looks like we share a first name, Ivan. Hm, there’s something about you though…”  

His turtle-neck suddenly felt tighter at his throat as the Major leaned in further until he was practically able to feel his breath hitting his face.  ‘Ivan’ steadied his breathing before speaking in a hushed tone,  “I was recently hired to assist with, ah, final preparations for the Shagohod.”

John wasn’t quite sure what he’d said wrong to elicit the glare he received but it certainly wasn’t because of his answer, no, it was what it lacked.

A chill ran up his spine as he felt a stiff leather glove caress over his groin, digits pressing directly into his testicles before gripping them tightly,  “Major,”  the groping hand was unyielding, giving his junk a firm squeeze and pulling a wheeze from his lungs,  “I don’t care if you’re new around here, you’ll address me as Major or Sir.”

Snake gave an affirmative nod, jaw clenched to the point he thought his molars would shatter.  The blond scoffed, lessening his vice grip on the agent’s crotch to more of a light grab, narrowed icy eyes piercing his own gunmetal blues,  “I’ll let you off just because you’re easy on the eyes.”

He would’ve been relieved that his balls weren’t being crushed any longer, however the hand lingered and toyed with him, sliding up his fly towards his abdomen and back down again to cusp his package.  This was not at all what he’d expected when encountering his target - yes, he was told that Raikov was a bastard to the men beneath him, beating them just for the thrill of it, but this was beyond strange - if anything he expected a gunfight, not plain molestation.  Snake exhaled through his nose, unable to deny that the Major’s groping was awakening something in his gut, as invasive as his touch was.  He also couldn’t deny that the guy was pretty cute, sharp effeminate features bolstered no thanks to his near white shoulder length hair.  Now that he thinks about it, his face is near one-to-one with the mask he was given before this mission.  Raikov’s pale pink lips curved into a nasty little smirk, never breaking eye contact with the other man,  “You feel pretty big for a mad scientist.  So handsome too, Volgin sure knows how to pick ‘em.”  Raikov’s voice was barely above a whisper as his dirty words rolled off his tongue.  A flush crept up the agent’s neck and cheeks, a mildly disgruntled huff leaving him.  He couldn’t believe he was letting this whoreish Soviet soldier rile him up, he should’ve taken him out by now. 

He felt a pinch as an attempt was made to unzip his fly,  “..Hey, what’re you-?”  John swatted the prying hand away, head darting over Raikov’s shoulder and around the two of them, suddenly conscious of the fact he was standing in the middle of the East Wing getting felt up by the Major.  He didn’t want to imagine the humiliation if somebody caught them like this - if only he knew that this was a very common occurrence in this terrible fortress.

Uncaring, Raikov just giggled, his voice was shrill and playful.  Taking a miniscule step back from the scientist, Raikov’s hand dove into his breast pocket, pulling out a golden pocketwatch and flipping it open with a thoughtful hum,  “I’ve got some time to kill and I wanna have some fun with you. So, how about it?”  The watch snapped shut and that same hand reached out to fiddle with the buttons of Snake’s labcoat, he teased the topmost button open.

It took Naked Snake (the renowned special forces operative, tactical espionage prodigy and man who fluently spoke eight languages) a hot minute to process that he’d just been propositioned.  He stared back at the Soviet with a look of utter incredulity, as the other man shifted from hip to hip, eyes staring back to his expectantly.  

Seriously considering the offer and weighing up his options, John shut his trapdoor mouth in order to formulate a response.  When he thought about it, he had been majorly touch starved for ages, the only human contact having been in the form of violence or EVA’s teasing charm - hell, even just the thought of having been in such close proximity to a stunning woman so willing to throw herself at him made his balls ache with need.  Fuck it.  Now that this attractive, salacious young man was rubbing up on him, how could he turn down the offer?  John was but a man on a mission.

“...Yeah, OK.”

A snicker, Raikov was clearly taken aback by such a blunt response.  He looked the scientist up and down once more before he spoke, his honey-like tone rife with amusement,  “Come on then, Zmeya.”  The way he said his fake name with such venom made John wonder if the guy had caught onto his identity being bull crap.  He’d admit the name was quite on the nose, albeit he didn’t anticipate things to go the way they were headed.

Major Raikov turned on his heel, platinum locks flowing with the momentum of his pivot as he sauntered off.  He followed the other man, peering over his six as the two entered the bathroom and willed himself to remain vigilant.  The stall door unlocked and Raikov chuckled as he turned back, moving aside to shove the agent into the cramped space before filing in after him.  With a mechanical click, the door locked.

He damn near tripped on his own feet as he braced a hand on a wall to avoid collapsing.  John couldn’t help but scowl at just how pliant he’d become, the mere thought of getting his rocks off overriding his functions.  Had it really been that long?  “So, uh, how do you want me?”  A black glove pressed to his chest, pushing until the scientist’s back met the wall.

Rather than responding, the Major dropped into a squat immediately, hands frantically unbuckling the rugged man's belt like an overenthusiastic kid at Christmas.  His khakis were yanked down his thighs, revealing his exposed cock, heavy balls and his dark thicket of pubes, already sporting a semi hardon.  Snake laid his back flush against the wall, chin tucked to his chest to watch as the blond got straight to work.

With delight Raikov purred, "Oh, you’re commando! нямка~"  Before the agent had any time to quip back, a hand grabbed his shaft and slid his hefty foreskin back, a soft pair of lips encasing his tip.  Naked Snake let his eyes fall shut, leaning his head back to allow himself to enjoy the attention, it had indeed been a long time for him.  Being in such a tight space, Snake inwardly cringed a tad at his own body odor.  All that physical exertion from creeping around a humid jungle had him stinking, but to his surprise the Major seemed unbothered - hell, he could hear the guy huffing hard through his nose as he engulfed his cock, his musk working to only arouse him further.  Choking back a gasp as his sensitive head dragged across the ridged roof of Raikov’s palate, he felt himself rapidly filling out and stretching the lips wrapped around his length.

Once the man’s erection had reached a point where the tip was punching his uvula, Raikov craned his neck back and it left his mouth with a wet pop.  Snake sighed, a mixture of ecstasy and impatience, as the Major mouthed at the side of his shaft, prodding a prominent vein with his tongue while he used a gloved hand to stroke at the base.  John stared back down at the man and couldn’t resist comparing the Soviet officer to a brothel worker with the way his lashes would flutter with each pulse of the cock pressed to his lips,  “You do this a lot, don'tcha, Major?”  He smirked as he pushed his hips forward, smearing Raikov's cheek with the pre-cum that had beaded at his slit, earning him an annoyed huff from the slut on his knees.  That angry face was too cute, he totally understood Major Zero’s grievances with this guy, but instead of beating his face he’d much rather fuck it.  Snake swiped the cap from the blond’s head, tossing it off and into a corner so he could rake his fingers through his silky white locks, urging Raikov to continue sucking on him,  “I see why the Colonel keeps you around, you’re just something he can empty himself into after a hard day’s work.”

His baby blues widened at the assertion, thin brows curved downwards as if to be offended at such a factual statement.  The Major shot up onto his feet, boots squeaking on the polished floor and nearly stomping on the scientist’s foot as he loomed close,  “How dare you!”

Snake’s gaze wandered over Raikov’s figure, looking from his flushed face, down to his belt, eyes landing on his holstered Makarov pistol.  He was warned that the Major carried the firearm at all times and he quickly decided that if he didn't wish to be burnt then he shouldn’t play with fire.  Raidenovich seemed the trigger-happy type; if he was confident enough to flaunt his body and grope his soldiers for everybody to see, he wouldn’t doubt that he’d have no issues with dispatching disobedient men like cattle either.  His best bet would be to strip the guy of his uniform and weapon, the latter was his assignment after all.

Their eyes locked once again, and hoping to placate the antsy Major, he leant forward in an attempt to press his lips against his.  A hand was cupped over his mouth,  “Nuh uh, my lips aren’t yours to kiss.”  Raikov hissed, grasping at the man’s prickly bearded cheeks, smushing his lips together, to which Snake just grumbled.  So be it, he could think of a number of other places he could sink his teeth into anyway.

Two large hands snaked their way down Raikov’s sides, settling on his hips and giving a firm squeeze through the thick layers of his uniform,  “Are we doing this or what?”  John mumbled, the gravel of his voice underlined with a hint of lust, quietly loosening the Major’s belt in hopes to hurry this along - get to the meat and potatoes of this hookup - but also to rid him of that uniform sooner.  “Can’t you see how badly I need you, Major?”  His hands slid from the belt to the man’s behind, lightly pinching and kneading, his deep voice rumbling through the Major’s cochlea.  The blond peered down at the dripping length hanging between the scientist’s legs and felt weak in the knees as he noticed its slight curvature to the side, how enticing.  He had better get it inside him before it shrunk from the cold. 

“Alright, alright.”  Raikov rattled out, blatantly flustered as he removed Snake’s hands from his ass.  It seemed his seduction training was worth the effort after all, he could tell Raikov was about ready to bend to his every whim the more turned-on he got.  The Major distanced himself enough to begin stripping, pulling off his belts and undoing his jacket, one button at a time.  The agent just watched on, a hand on his cock languidly stroking himself.  Upon seeing his eagerness, Raikov pointed towards the toilet as he worked to slacken the knot of his tie and button down his dress shirt, “Sit!”

What was he, some dog?  Apparently he was, because John did not protest, he simply seated himself on the toilet lid, knees spread and erection standing proud in his lap as he waited for the Major to finish folding his clothes.  Finally, Raikov had rid himself of his top layers and breeches, striding over to straddle the agent’s lap; the tight black thong was the immediate place Snake’s eyes landed, the little embroidered lightning bolt drew his attention.

“So it is true, you and the Colonel, huh?”  Snake stifled a chuckle as he hooked a finger under a strap, admiring how the thin strings would dig into his pale plush thighs and how the front piece barely covered his oddly flat groin.

“You best believe it. Say, if you make this worth my while, I’ll think about putting in a good word for you.”

“Hm…”  He dragged his eyes from the curiosity that was the Major’s genital situation and up along his hairless body, running his own gloved thumbs over the faded pink grooves lining the undersides of Raikov’s pectoral muscles; he had these interesting branching scars that almost resembled fern leaves or striking lightning, Lichtenberg figures.  “And if I don’t meet your expectations, then what?”

The Major shifted around, hips hovering inches above Snake’s flagging penis and his own legs bracketed the other’s,  “I’d hate to see such a pretty cock go to waste. Don’t let me down, got it?~”  The last two words were emphasised with a harsh yank to the back of John’s hair to force his focus towards his smug expression.  A grunt left his cracked lips with a smirk.  The hold on his hair loosened as Snake began lowering the thong, fingers hooked around the straps to pull them down, slowly. Much to his surprise, he was greeted with a supple rosy vulva and a swollen clit.  He froze in his tracks.

“You have a… pussy?”  His stare was incredulous as he peered at the Major's privates with nothing short of befuddlement.  John had been prepared for a multitude of situations;  Tactics to deceive and overwhelm the enemy, ways to worm his way out of combat scenarios, torture, the sorts.  But this was unprecedented.  Although many questions buzzed around his head, the aching of his loins urged him to fuck first then ask questions later.

“Is it really an issue?” Raikov's hushed tone could have almost been mistaken for affectionate as he dragged his thumb across John's lower lip,  "Nobody but the Colonel can touch me there, but maybe I can make an exception for you..”  The man giggled as he watched the scientist's tongue dart out to wet his lips, eying his sex as if it was the juiciest forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden.

Although a man with a pussy is not something he'd ever found himself thinking about, nor considering the logistics of, he saw this as a win.  It's another hole to fuck, so who was he to complain?  Especially when the aforementioned cunt was hovering tantalisingly over his cock, he would be the biggest fool to ever grace this earth if he didn't seize it and take the plunge.

Quickly shaking the thong loose from his hips and repositioning himself in the man’s lap, stark nude, Snake took a hold of Raikov's petite waist, thumbs digging into his pelvic bones to guide the other towards his awaiting dick.  No time was wasted in penetrating him, pulling the smaller man down to fully pierce himself on his cock until dark pubic hairs met with bare skin.

Going in more or less dry forced a whine from the Major.  Seeing as Raikov was accustomed to servicing a large man like Colonel Volgin, he took his naked snake with ease, but that wasn't to say the American's cock didn't mean business.  It filled him just right.  Not to the point of feeling an uncomfortable stretch, nor did it leave him disappointed and wishing for more.  Raikov ground his mound against Snake, cock churning in his deepest depths, somehow growing harder by the second with the echo of each wet schlick.  Body unmoving, John's hands travelled over every inch of the other man's lower half, greedily squeezing at his love handles and caressing the soft skin over his womb; although the Major was clearly spoiled rotten, his body was still solid with lithe musculature and a sight for sore eyes.  Apart from their height similarities, their bodies were totally different, contrary to EVA's reassurance that they looked identical from behind (Snake's ass was thicker than Raikov's, that was a fact!).

Raikov raised his pelvis, pulling up until the ridge of the head caught on his entrance before sinking back down, “Ahh, why don't you take off that bandana? You'd look better without it.. it's kinda ridiculous.”  Forearms rested on the agent's shoulders, he reached up to try to loosen the dirtied cloth plastered to his forehead, but his hand was promptly halted.

“Ridiculous?”  John felt the urge to wring his hands around the blond's neck, but his twitchy hands remained attached to his waist instead,  “No. It holds some sentimental value to me, it stays on.”  He grumbled, punctuating his refusal to relinquish his precious accessory with a flurry of harsh upwards thrusts, yanking the Major down to meet each pump.  The cramped bathroom stall was steadily filling with a cacophony of wet slaps and whorish moans, the toilet seat rattled beneath their conjoined weight.

As they went on, John's grasp of his own self control was slipping, pleasured grunts leaving him like a steam-powered engine as he rutted into the smaller male.  The fabric of the agent's sleeves stretched around the tensed forms of his biceps and elbows as those firm arms coiled around the Soviet's middle, leaving him with no room to struggle as he sank his fangs into Raikov's soft stomach.  Really now, what on Earth did a scientist need all that brawn for?  This unusual detail somehow never crossed Major Raikov’s mind.

He was becoming downright animalistic in nature as he continued to fuck into him, breathing hot against the flushed skin he had left perfect dental imprints into,  “Yeah, baby.. so fucking wet for me..”  John mouthed against Raikov's abdomen, his canines grazing over the naval and up towards his ribs.

He felt the velvety inner walls of the Soviet tighten and spasm around his cock at his words, a shaking hand attempting to muffle the lewd shouts and wails that continuously fell from his slack jaw.  

The American was unrelenting, blood burning hot as he pounded into that needy pussy, really putting the officer in his place; he relished in the fact that Raikov was turning into a babbling mess, small dog syndrome gone with the wind.  Snake chased nothing but his own pleasure, his powerful arms crushing the smaller male's mid section like a boa constrictor while his fat length bullied Raikov's cunt into submission.  

Totally blissed out, John's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he suddenly spilled, painting the blond's insides an opaque white.  Like some beast, he snarled and panted, holding Major Raikov flush against his own hips with an iron grip, ensuring not a single drop went to waste.  Raikov could do nothing but quake and sob, thighs trembling wildly.

God. He needed that. 

He took a moment to recuperate and come back down to Earth from his dreamland in the clouds, regaining some semblance of control.  While allowing his sexual partner some time to breathe also, John placed open mouthed kisses all over his torso, running his tongue over the bite marks he had marked him with.  The cock buried deep within twitched back to life as Raikov shifted, ready for round two.

“Hah.. got any more left in the chamber?”  The insatiable blond chirped, hips lightly rolling once the strong hold on him had loosened considerably.

Leaning back until his shoulder blades met the flush tank, Snake ran a hand through his own sweaty hair, swiping the loose strands from his forehead,  “Yeah, how about you turn around? Wanna see how pretty you are from behind too.”  His voice was grit and gravel, sexuality still radiating from his eyes as they pierced through the Soviet's soul, a domineering aura hanging over him.  He was the one in control - probably always had been - as much as the Major believed he had the upper hand due to his ranking.  Without a question, Raikov twisted around like a spinning top, still speared onto the American's thick cock.  John hummed pleasantly, kneading the perky ass perched in his lap.  The arch to that slim back was a truly erotic sight.  Two thumbs spread Raikov's cheeks, a gruff chuckle sounding from behind him as every little movement inside his pussy caused his puckered hole to clench.

A devious grin pulled at John's lips while brushing his calloused thumb pad over the hole… he couldn't help but notice how tight it still was, he needed to change that.  He thought if he was going to hookup with the enemy, he may as well go the whole mile, right?

The Major impatiently rocked his hips, lazily fucking himself onto the agent's still rigid dick, blissfully unaware of the scheme formulating in the other's mind.  He groaned as his backside was prodded and teased, the thumb pushing within and hooking around the rim, testing for a reaction.  He loved it, judging by the way he whined and how his walls quivered around him.  That settled it.  Time for the grand finale of their secretive tryst!

In the blink of an eye, the agent retracted from Raikov's spent pussy, dragging his tip from one hole to the other, easing into his yet to be ruined hole with the help of his thumbs to pry him open.  The Major didn't object to the intrusion, gasping with surprise as he was forcibly reentered, every muscle in his body tensed, especially the one Snake had just breached.  It would be painful to begin with, but Major Raikov was nothing if not resilient.  Their combined fluids aided in Snake's journey as he quickly bottomed out inside the younger man, hands like claws at Raikov's flat rump.  He barely gave the other time to adjust before he began to stab his pelvis up into him, slamming that Soviet ass onto his cock, ballsack noisily slapping against the drooling cunt, seed leaking down the seam of his balls.  At that point he didn't even care about the slick mess they were making on his lap and the floor, lost in the sensation of it all, fucking like rabbits.

The renewed tightness drove John into a state of madness once more - a primal part of his brain seeing the constriction as a challenge - his blunt fingernails gave the blond's buttocks a deep tissue massage, asshole straining around his furiously pumping cock.  Soon enough the Major was able to somewhat match the agent's brutal pace, frantically bouncing in John's lap like the perfect little fucktoy,  “God! Fu-fuuuck, yeah!”  Raikov blurted out through his crazed panting, feeling a large hand stroke down the dip of his spine, down to his tailbone.

Snake's breath burned hot against Raikov's flushed skin as he bred his tight ass something fierce, even he wasn't able to hold back his own pleasured moans, huffing out the ghost of a laugh at the absurd sounds their bodies were making in this cramped bathroom stall; the air was heady with sex.  

“Ahh, gonna cum again.. you've been so good- feel so good.”  John wheezed into the other's ear, his pelvic muscles overworked and aching from the exertion of his rabid fucking, he knew he was nearing the finish line with how dense his testes felt, preparing another load for Raikov's hole.

Like the snapping of a taut rope, a laboured roar tore from Snake's larynx as he stuffed himself balls-deep, his scratchy cheek stuck to Raikov's sweat slicked back, listening to his heartbeat rattling against his ribcage.  Snake's balls pumped all they could muster into the fucked-out Major, his cock rapidly softening as it throbbed in synchrony with his pulse.  Both basking in the aftermath of such an intense orgasm, Snake took this opportunity, while Raikov was distracted, to reach under his coat, pulling his MK22 Mod 0 from the utility belt beneath his shirt.  With the care of a neurosurgeon, he used his hip as leverage to get the slide to drag back just enough to eject a single tranq dart round.  He finessed the dart into a pinch grip, silent whilst using their heavy breathing to mask any potentially suspicious clinks.

“...That was fun, thanks a lot.”  Even out of view, anybody could've heard the smirk just by his tone alone, he'd been waiting for this exact moment.  The bastard spoke English, his voice gruff and sickly sweet, sparking a violent flame behind the Major's eyes.

“Hah?! American!--”  The blond's head snapped around to face the intruder, teeth bared like a cornered animal ready to bite.  Before things could turn nasty, a needle had already been jabbed into his pale neck.  Numb, he slurred, “I knew something about you was.. wah...”

“Shhhh…”  The firearm sure lived up to the name Hush Puppy, the tranquilliser was fast acting and before Raikov could even attempt to utter a ‘fuck you’, he was out cold.  Raikov’s entire body lolled forwards, suddenly dead weight, but Snake held him steady and lifted himself and the other man off from the toilet seat.  His limp dick was still stuffed inside as he moved him to the ground, shoulders to the cold tiles and ass held high.  John whistled - what a beautiful mess he made of the guy’s holes.  The view almost reminded him of two waterfalls, streams of semen overlapping and running down his thighs, photograph worthy really.

Tearing his eyes away from one of his greatest accomplishments to date, Snake repositioned Raikov into a relaxed sit against the wall, retrieving the twisted black thong and working them back up the sleeping beauty’s hips.  If only he wasn’t on a mission, he would have loved to have just stared at the man a little longer; his wispy hair fell over his delicate features and shoulders, long brown eyelashes fanned out over his cheekbones and with pale parted lips.

Even in his peaceful state, he still looked a little feisty, how cute.  He almost envied the Colonel, almost.

His mind, after having cleared away the fog of lust, dialed back into Mission Mode.  Target was neutralised and uniform acquired, all that was left was to stow the Major away and deepen his infiltration of the Weapons Lab by way of stealing his identity.  Conscious of the amount of time he and the Major had been in the bathroom together for at that point, Snake made quick work of his scientist getup.  Once the layers had been shed, he reached to twist the knob of his radio with the intent to radio support for a status update, but he felt his heart sink into his ass when he noticed the turn dial was already, well, turned.  

Shit, had the radio been transmitting the entire time? 

《 Major? Do you copy? 》

There was no response for a good five and a half seconds.

《 …Yes, Snake. 》

Major Zero’s tone did not inspire much confidence in Snake.  Did he…?

《 …Has this been on the whole time? 》

Another uncomfortable silence over the radio static.

《 …Yes, Snake. 》

Shit.

《 …Huhm. 》

< End Transmission >

Well, it looked like the support team didn’t need a status report, they seemed to know everything. 

That’s great. 

If he failed this mission and the US government ordered to have him executed via firing squad and filled his body with lead, he wouldn’t have minded.

Notes: 

-the fake name john used 'Ivan Voyevodavich Zmeya' means 'john son of warlock snake'. i'm not russian so this may not be completely accurate to how russian names should be constructed, nor translated, but your honour i just googled shit and went with it ok, the S in MGS does not stand for sense
-the single russian word used in this fic нямка (nyamka) means yummy, i think. again, i just be googling shit and hoping it makes sense
-much like actual mgs3, they would all be speaking russian, the same applies here apart from that thing that snake said right at the end which would have been the only english exchange, you know the one because i assume you just read the fic.