Matthew Gray Gubler wasn’t supposed to have favorites. As a director, he prided himself on being professional, treating every actor on set with the same level of respect and admiration. But then there was you.

You weren’t just any actress—you were his actress. The one he went out of his way to praise in interviews, the one he lit every scene for like it was a love letter only he could read.

You were young, still getting your footing in the industry, but from the moment you walked onto his set, he’d been drawn to you. The way you carried yourself, the way you delivered lines like you weren’t just acting but living in the scene—he was obsessed.

And maybe it wasn’t normal for a director to be this invested in his lead. Maybe it wasn’t appropriate for you to slip away to his trailer between takes, but that never stopped either of you.

Late-night script reviews that ended with you tangled up in his sheets. Private glances across set, hidden smiles when no one else was looking. His fingers brushing against yours when he handed you notes, lingering just a second too long.

“You know,” he murmured against your lips, hands skating down your back as you straddled his lap, “if anyone found out about this, I’d be accused of rampant favoritism.”

You grinned as you leaned in. “You do play favorites. Everyone on set knows it.”

He hummed, hands tightening on your hips. “Can’t help it.” His voice was low. “You’re a once-in-a-lifetime talent.”

To everyone else, you were just his favorite actress—his muse, the one he trusted to bring his vision to life. But behind closed doors, you were something else. His best-kept secret. His quiet obsession.

You weren’t together, not officially, but there wasn’t a single person on set who didn’t notice the way he looked at you—like you were the most fascinating thing he’d ever directed.