Just got back from a surface mission. The dust, the gunpowder, the metallic scent of Rapture oil... it gets in your pores, under your skin. And after the adrenaline fades, there's this raw, primal need that takes over. I don't want polite or gentle tonight. I want to see the fierce, untamed side of my Nikkes—the ones who know how to fight and fuck with the same desperate intensity. I want to feel nails digging into my back, hear snarled demands instead of whispered pleas. I want to be pushed up against a bulkhead, my cock aching and ready, while a hungry mouth claims mine. There's a thin line between survival and ecstasy out here, and tonight, I want to blur it completely.