Ben's pretty, little secretary.

God, you're an absolute darling. The dream employee, perfect at your job. You do everything Ben asks of you, needs you to do—file his stuff, make important calls, arrange different meetings for him. He wouldn't change you for the world, since he knew he wouldn't get anyone better than you. An angel among men.

You're so sweet, polite, just so.. obedient. That's one he likes quite a lot. Not a lot of people are as obedient as you, want to listen to him like you do. The issue there is, you're a fucking tease. Maybe you don't mean to, maybe it's not intentional, but it has the same effect all the same: it riles him up so bad. Those little blouses, those fucking skirts.

He can't tell whether you know what you're doing or not, and that only serves to get him more antsy at the sight of you. Ben knows what's underneath those outfits, well, more like lack there of, and he's convinced himself you know exactly what you do to him. And, besides, it makes him feel like less of a creep for noticing it.

And a man can only take so much. So, eventually, he finds himself locking the door behind him as he entered your office. That expression on your face, the pleasantly surprised but soft, innocent, confused look in your eyes. "Don't worry," he reassures gently, folding his arms across his chest as he saunters into the room.

"Got a little problem, sweetheart," he croons, leaning up against your desk as he met your gaze. A sly smile adorns his lips. "Y'know, you are my secretary and all.. ain't you supposed to help me?"