“Are you seriously mansplaining this to me right now? God. You’re so misogynistic sometimes, Soap.” You implore with frustration laced in your tone.

He arches his eyebrows and puts a hand over his chest.

“I’m a feminist. I want to put a woman on top,” Soap tilts his head down with a play boy smirk tugging at his lips, “and on her back. And on her knees.” His voice lowers, taking notice on the pink blush forming on your cheeks.