The low hum of the bar faded into the background as he guided you toward the pool table in the back corner. Dim lights cast a golden glow over the green felt, and the clack of balls from other tables seemed distant now. "Here," he murmured, voice low and smooth like aged whiskey. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his black button-down earlier, exposing strong forearms corded with muscle and faint veins that flexed as he picked up a cue. The fabric strained slightly over his shoulders, and you tried not to stare.
You gripped the cue awkwardly, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he stood behind you. “I’ve never been good at this.”
“That’s why I’m teaching you, sweetheart.” His chest brushed your back as he leaned in, one hand settling lightly on your hip to adjust your stance. The heat of his palm burned through the thin fabric of your dress. “Bend forward a little more.” You did, feeling the cool edge of the table against your hips. He stepped in fully then, his body molding against yours from behind in one fluid motion. Tall, solid, and far too warm.
“Like this,” he whispered. His breath ghosted over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver racing down your spine. You could smell his cologne; something dark and woody that made your head feel fuzzy. His fingers slid down your arm, wrapping around your hand on the cue to correct your grip. His thumb stroked once along the side of your wrist, almost absentmindedly, but the way your breath hitched told him everything.
“Eyes on the cue ball,” he continued, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Not the pocket yet. You need to feel the angle first.” His other hand moved to your shoulder, pressing you gently into the proper form. You were caged between his arms now, trapped in the most delicious way possible. Every small shift of his body against yours sent sparks through you, the hard plane of his chest, the subtle flex of his thighs behind yours.
You tried to focus on the shot, but all you could think about was how perfectly he fit against you, how his breath kept teasing your neck with every instruction, warm and ragged like he was fighting the same tension you were. “Relax,” he said huskily, his mouth hovering just below your ear. “You’re too tense. Let me help.”
He adjusted your elbow, his fingers lingering far longer than necessary, tracing down to your wrist again. When you finally took the shot, the cue ball struck with a sharp crack, but you barely noticed where it went. All you registered was the way his grip tightened on your hip as he praised you softly. “There you go, baby, you're a natural.”
The words hit low in your stomach. You straightened up slowly, turning in the small space he allowed you. His eyes were dark, locked on your lips for a beat too long before flicking back up. “Again?” he asked, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk that promised much more than another lesson.
You swallowed hard, pulse racing. “Yeah… I think I need a lot more practice.”
a/n: i saw a video on tiktok about this and had to write it lol
luke castellan teaches you how to play pool at a bar
warnings and tags: college au, drinking, fratboy!luke castellan, bad description of playing pool, rueguard being your wingwomen, not proofread
word count: 1.2k
authors note: charlie posting this pic of him playing pool had me going crazy, so I had to write a luke fic
the whole world seemed to be covered in glitter. the bar was bustling, the drinks were fantastic, and girls night out was going well.
your friends, clarisse and silena, had taken you out as a way to distract you from finals (and maybe to find you a boyfriend as well). the two were a couple, so they had no concern about finding dates for anyone but you.
“what about him? the blonde over there?” clarisse suggested, gesturing with her head to a tall blonde guy across the bar.
but when you saw a girl approach him and share a soft, tender kiss, you shake your heads
“nope, he’s got a girlfriend.” you reply, turning their suggestions once again, “we’re running out of people here.”
practically on command, a large group of guys walk into the building. you recognized a few of them, so you assumed that all of them went to university with you.
“any of them catch your eye?” silena asks, ever so interested in your love life.
silena was always trying to play matchmaker, and clarisse just played along for her girlfriend’s sake. but secretly, you knew she didn’t hate it as much as she said she did. that girl loved to meddle, even if she refused to admit it.
“the one with dark curly hair, in the black long sleeve.” you responded, eyes locking on the man you were describing.
you didn’t know him, but you were sure you’d seen him somewhere around campus. but if you had, you knew you would’ve remembered him.
“luke?” silena asks.
you shrug, “i don’t know, maybe. i’ve never met him.”
clarisse stops sipping on her cocktail when you say that.
“you don’t know luke castellan?” she questions, seeming almost shocked.
you shake your head.
“he’s pretty popular.” silena buts in.
they spoke in such a manner that explained that almost everyone knew luke. it was shocking how even college could be so cliquey at times, considering the fact that all of his friends seemed to be pretty popular.
“is he in a frat?” you asked.
silena nods, confirming your suspicions.
he just had that look about him. the rich boy look. he didn't necessarily seem mean from where you were sat. luke and his friends grabbed drinks from the bar before heading over to the pool table.
“go ask to play pool with them!” silena encourages.
“they’re strangers, silena, I can’t do that. and i suck at pool.” you respond.
“even better.” she says excitedly, like everything is going according to plan, pulling you out of the booth with her.
clarisse mouths a quick ‘i’m sorry’ as her girlfriend whisks you away to go play wingwoman.
“hey boys, my friend here is absolutely terrible at pool and she’s looking for someone to teach her so she can play with my girlfriend and I. would you be willing to help her, luke?” silena says, addressing everyone before she quickly singles luke out.
your face flushes a rosy hue. gods, this is embarrassing. you hated how she called him out directly, it made it even less subtle that you were trying to get his attention.
luke looks around to see if any of his friends are objecting, and shockingly, nobody had any strong opinions. when he turns back, he shrugs and nods.
“sure. say hi to clarisse for me, yeah?” he asks silena.
she nods before skipping back to the booth that the three of you were previously sat at.
“i’m luke, by the way.” he introduces himself.
he extends a hand out for a handshake.
“y/n.” you reply, accepting his hand.
his grip is firm, but still gentle enough to show he was handling you with care.
“okay, so you’re going to want to start by holding the cue just like this.” he instructs, demonstrating the hold, “there are a few ways you can hold it, but this is probably easiest for you since you’re just beginning.”
when he hands it to you, you try to mimic what he had done, but you can’t seem to get it right. ever so observant, luke helps adjust your hand. his touch is gentle, kind, and you can’t help but get a little flustered at the proximity.
“good. that’s good.” he speaks lowly.
his voice is the perfect mix of bass and honey. low and gravely, but still sugarcoated with sweetness. he really was perfect, and now you were shaming yourself for not knowing who he was earlier.
luke walks over to where the white ball is, placing his finger on a particular spot, “you’re going to want to hit it right here.”
when he moves his hand, you attempt to hit it and…
completely miss.
luke lets out a little chuckle, but you know there’s no ill intent behind it.
“silena told you i wasn’t great.” you say.
“it’s fine. you’re just learning.” luke replies, “give it another go.”
you line up the cue again, making sure it’s all lined up with the ball. this time, you're able to hit it. the shot isn’t great, but at least you moved the ball this time. the striped ball you’d aimed for knocks out of its spot, but doesn’t go far.
“atta girl.”
the rest of luke’s friends have decided to just chat and drink, leaving the two of you to play alone.
“i’m gonna take my turn, ‘kay, baby?” he asks, picking up his own cue to take his turn.
you nod.
that seems to be a habit of his, phrasing his actions as questions. it was kind of attractive, the way he spoke. and the fact that he’d called you ‘baby.’ you were sure your knees would buckle right there.
luke lines up the cue with his the white ball once again, hitting the solid colored ball. of course, he hits the colorful ball in, the white one stopping just perfectly before the pocket.
“show off.” you mutter under your breath.
at that, luke barks out a laugh.
the next few turns were normal. you’d miss once or twice, but luke would always give you as many chances as you needed.
luke, as expected, was doing trick shots. he’d do it behind his back, getting just the right angle to hit multiple balls at the same time, practically every trick in the book that he could come up with.
but your luck of hitting them correctly soon ran out.
line up the cue. hit the white ball in the same spot. and this time? you accidentally hit the eight ball into the pocket.
“sorry.” you apologize.
“it’s okay, you were doing really good. do you want to go get a drink instead?” he offers.
you nod and the two of you slide the cues back into the holder before walking over to the bar. you hop up onto the barstool next to him.
“what’s your go-to?” luke questions.
“vodka cranberry.” you reply.
when the bartender comes over, luke orders a whiskey on the rocks before saying, “and a vodka cranberry for my girl.”
his girl.
across the bar, when you lock eyes with silena, she gives you a thumbs up and a wide smile before going back to her conversation with clarisse.
