Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader One Shots

Little

This was put together with the guidance of Luke_Whiterock. Please check them out, their stories are incredible.

This story contains themes such as age regression or little space. If you are uncomfortable with this I would advice that you do not read this. Please remember that age regression is a coping mechanism, not linked to anything sexual like age play, which I do not condone in the slightest.

2248 words

2nd Person POV

Beads of sweat ran down your forehead, your were supposed to deliver the directors coffee 30 minutes ago and he was growing increasingly impatient by the second.

You had been the on set assistant throughout the filming of your girlfriend's new movie, who also happened to be the person who got you the job, wanting to prevent long distances between you both.

Although your were eternally grateful for the job opportunity, deep down you hated the director, being treated like a second class citizen when he addressed you.

Jenna was not on set today, no scenes were being filmed that required her presence. That didn't stop you from having to go to work though, you were everyone's assistant, not just Jenna's.

Your breaths were shallow as you filled the coffee cup, your hands unsteady but you managed to prevail in getting his coffee prepared. You made your way out of the staff room and to the set itself.

It was a busy day today, big stunts happening and what not. The noise pierced your ears like a knife, the sound waves bounced in your ears canals and you could feel it. "Too loud. Too loud" you thought to yourself.

Your senses were practically in overdrive from all the stress. The lights were too bright, the shirt you wore became increasingly itchy and irritable, every inch of the fabrics could be felt and you hated it.

The director finally caught sight of you and to say he looked displeased would be an understatement. You tried to quell the sense of fear yoy felt and forced a smile on your face. "Fuckin finally, Y/N. Bout' time you got my goddamn coffee. Next time it better be on time, otherwise you might be out of a job" He reprimanded.

"Y-yes sir. Won't happen again" you say shakily. You went to hand him his coffee, only for an explosion from the special effects to startle you, dropping the coffee onto the ground in the process. The world felt like slow motion the moment the mug collided with the ground, the directors face changed from annoyance to pure rage.

"WHAT THE FUCK, Y/N. CAN'T YOU DO ONE FUCKING RIGHT?!" He shouted, making you flinch. Tears pricked at your eyes, hearing those words brought back horrible memories, one's you kept buried in the deepest parts of your memory.

Your parents would often say the same thing "Stupid fucking spaz, can't do nothing right can you. Waste of space is what you are" a waste of space... can't do anything right...

"I ASK YOU TO DO ONE THING, AND YOUR RETARDED ASS CANT BRING ME A FUCKING COFFEE WITHOUT DROPPING IT!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. People were now staring at the scene that unfolded, you could feel the gaze of everyone on set.

"YOU'RE FUCKING WORTHLESS Y/N! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" You ran. You ran as fast as you could, needing to get away from everyone. "Worthless. Retarded. Waste of space." Each word echoed in your mind as your feet picked up their pace, desperately trying to find a quiet place.

You hid inside the break room, sitting behind the door so that no one could enter. You could feel yourself slipping, your legs had turned to jelly, words didn't come as naturally as they should. You knew there was only one explanation... You had regressed.