#Walter hale fanfiction

[sissylittlefeather]

Clean Up Your Own Backyard: A Walter Hale Story

A/N: So, I'm obsessed with The Trouble With Girls. Like, "watch it almost everyday" obsessed 😂. Naturally, Walter Hale needed a fic. I mean, have you seen him?!

Big thanks to @ccab for hounding me about this until I finally finished it. Love youuuuu!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m&f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: ~4.5k

Unfamiliar with Walter? Bless your heart. Here:

Gilroy, Iowa has been home to you since the day you were born and you've been trying to get out of there for almost just as long. But there was never anywhere to go and having been born in the year 1900, your options were fairly limited. At the tender age of 18, you got married, just for something interesting to do. You had your son a year later and that definitely gave you something to do. Your husband was good to you until he died at the tail end of the Spanish flu epidemic in 1920. Since then, it's been you and Joseph Jr., or Joey, against the world and the thought of leaving faded into the background of your memory.

In the summer of 1927, the Chautauqua rolls through like it does every summer. You work at the hotel as a maid, so you're keenly aware of their presence. This time, something's different, though. There seems to be a new energy among the company and you learn from listening to them chatter that something wild happened in their last town. There was a murder and the manager was actually able to use it to his advantage. You think to yourself that this is a disgusting use of human vulnerability, but it doesn't surprise you. These Chautauqua managers are always a little slimy. Thankfully, as a maid, you never really interact with the more powerful people. In fact, you don't really interact with anyone. To them, you're invisible unless you're in the way, so you're able to go about your daily business without much interruption.

One day, you're busy cleaning in an empty room with the door open. The weather is warm, so you left it open to get a breeze as you work. Without realizing it, you're singing almost at the top of your lungs. You've always been a person who sings while you work and really while you do anything. It's just a bad habit that you have. People have told you that you have a lovely voice, but it never seemed to matter much other than earning you some solos at church here and there.

So when you're singing in the hotel as you clean, you're shocked to turn around and find a man in the doorway.

"Oh sweet berries! You scared me!"

"I'm sorry, honey. I was just listening to you."

"To me?"

"You're quite the little canary, you know that?"

He's unbearably handsome with his suit jacket slung over his shoulder and a cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"I am?"

"Don't act so surprised, toots."

"Well, thank you, I guess." You turn to go back to cleaning, but he doesn't leave. He just stands in the doorway and watches you clean. You look back at him and he smiles, his eyes sparkling.

"I might like to hear you again sometime."

"Well, I clean the hotel almost every day, so I'm sure you will." He laughs and is about to speak again when an older man bustles up to him.

"Walter, we need you. Stop trying to seduce the locals and get back to your job." You look down and blush at the thought that this attractive man might be trying to flirt with you. He goes to leave, but turns to you just before he walks away.

"See you around, honey. I hope." With that he's gone and you go back to cleaning. This time, though, you hum quietly instead of singing out loud.

******

Walter follows Johnny back to his room to discuss whatever this problem is.

"She's gone." Johnny is panting and sweating and Walter can tell he's panicking.

"What do you mean she's gone? Who's gone?"

"Charlene. She disappeared in the night."

"Damn." He looks down at his feet and shakes his head. Maybe he should've tried harder to convince her to stay instead of trying to force her. Still, Walter is not one to mourn the loss of a woman for long. But this does present a pretty big problem for the company. He thinks quickly.

"Put Betty in charge of the story tent. She's been working with Charlie, she knows what to do. I'll find someone to work with her."

"Find someone? Where?" Johnny asks annoyed. Walter thinks about you and your nightingale voice.

"Somewhere. Don't you worry." He heads for the door to go talk to Betty and Johnny follows him closely.

"You've got that look again, Boss. You've got an idea that's going to make trouble." Walter laughs again. In the hallway, he hears you humming and smiles. He does have an idea.

******

After getting Betty set up, Walter stands at the back of the tent and listens to the children audition for the show. Most of them don't have much to offer, so he's just about to leave when a boy of about 8 takes the stage. He requests a gospel song from Betty and begins to sing. Walter turns on his heel quickly. The boy has the prettiest soprano he's ever heard and he's absolutely killing the gospel number. He watches the boy sing his whole song while the wheels turn in his mind. At the end, he walks to the front to catch the boy before he leaves.

"Hey, son, wait a minute." The boy looks up at him in awe.

"Yes, sir?"

"You sing pretty good. And I don't give that compliment lightly."

"Oh, thank you, sir." The boy's blue eyes are wide as plates.

"I don't think we're going to put you in the kids' show. I'd like you to sing some gospel numbers with the quartet. Do you play the piano?" The boy swallows deeply. He can't believe what he's hearing.

"No, sir, I don't. We don't have one at our house. You want me to sing with the quartet?"

"I do. Where's your mama? Is she here?" Walter looks around the tent.

"No, sir, she had to work."

"Alright, then. Will you bring her to me tomorrow or whenever she's available?"

"Yes, sir. She doesn't work tomorrow so I'll bring her here."

"That's good, son, thank you." He ruffles the boy's hair and lets him run off. Then, he heads back to the hotel.

******

You've almost finished for the day when you run into Walter in the hallway. He smiles and his eyes do the sparkly thing again.

"Hi honey. Can I talk to you?"

"To me?"

"Yes. Come here." He takes you into the room you just finished cleaning and sits down on the little couch. He gestures for you to sit next to him, so you do, just far enough away to still be polite but distant.

"You know I'm the manager of the Chautauqua-"

"You're the manager?"

"I am."

"Oh. You're younger than I expected."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment." All of a sudden his sparkly eyes feel like a subtle manipulation and you recoil from him without thinking. He's the man responsible for the murder business in the last town. "I have a problem and I think you could help me."

"Me?"

"Yes. How would you like to get out of Gilroy?" Your heart flip flops, but you know it's not an option.

"What do you mean?"

"I need a woman to help in the children's tent, someone who knows music. How would you like to come with us?" You can't believe what you're hearing. In a lot of ways it's a dream come true, but you know you can't leave Joey.

"Oh, sir-"

"Walter. Walter Hale."

"Mr. Hale-"

"Walter."

"Sir, as flattered as I am, I can't leave Gilroy."

"Why is that?" You hesitate to tell him, but he needs to know you're serious.

"I can't leave my son."

"You have a son?"

"I do. And I can't just leave him here to go with you."

"Bring him along."

"Oh, I could never. The Chautauqua is no place for a child."

"I grew up in the Chautauqua."

"Right, well, I'm not sure I'd like my son to end up..." You trail off when you realize what you're saying, but his lip curls into a smirk. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not. It's fine. But I sure could use your help."

"I can't. I'm sorry." You stand up from the little couch to go back to work. He watches you walk away, trying to think through his next steps. He'll convince you to come with him; he just needs to figure out the right move.

******

The next day, Walter is walking through the grounds making sure everything is running smoothly. He hears a voice behind him.

"Sir!" He turns to see the young boy from yesterday running towards him. He waits for him to get close and then ruffles his hair again.

"What is it, buddy?"

"I brought my mom. She's in the tent." Walter follows him to the children's tent to meet the boy's mother and try to convince her to let him take the boy under his wing. His mother turns when she hears her son and Walter's mouth drops.

"It's you!" You look at him with your eyebrows knit together.

"It's me. What do you want with my son?" Suddenly he realizes that this might be a real uphill battle for him.

"Well, ma'am, I'd like to have him join the Chautauqua as a sort of protégé for me."

"Protégé? For you?"

"Ma'am, I don't know if you know this, but your son is incredibly talented."

"I'm aware. What does that have to do with you?"

"I'd like to take him under my wing a bit: teach him piano and how to harmonize in a quartet." You scoff and look down at Joey. He's your pride and joy, the only thing you have left of your husband, and you're not going to let him go easily.

"Absolutely not. My son will go to college someday. He's not a performer."

"Oh, but he is. I've seen him." You look down at Joey, seemingly trying to decide whether you should take this risk or lock him inside forever. You look back up at Walter.

"Is this just because you need a new story lady?" He raises his eyebrows.

"What? No!"

"You want to pretend like you're taking an interest in my son so I'll come with you, is that it?"

"Ma'am. I took an interest in him before I knew he was your son." Now the boy chimes in. He's excited for this opportunity.

"It's true, mama. He talked to me yesterday after I auditioned." You look back and forth between them and try to imagine what it would be like for your son to grow up and become Walter.

"No. Absolutely not. Come on, Joey." You turn on your heel and push your son in front of you.

"But mama-"

"Ma'am-" You turn back to Walter.

"Thank you for putting these crazy ideas in his head without talking to me first." Then, you grab Joey's hand and walk away quickly. Walter watches you and shakes his head. There are several reasons he'd like you to join the company. The way you look walking away from him is not the least of them.

******

You have to go to work at the hotel every day, so you don't know that Joey is making his way to the Chautauqua grounds after you leave and getting home just before you do. Walter has him scheduled to perform with the quartet on the Friday night two weeks after your first encounter with him. Sometimes you see him in the hallways of the hotel and he nods politely, but doesn't press you any further about Joey performing.

You don't suspect anything until you hear Betty talking to one of the other women in the show as you clean the room across the hall.

"That new boy is very talented. I can't believe we found him in a little town like this. It's too bad his mother won't let him join us long-term. He'd be a great addition to the show." The other girl nods in agreement. "Mr. Hale assures me that he'll be able to convince the mother once he performs. I sure hope he's right."

Your blood boils as you listen to the conversation. He'll be able to convince you, will he? His arrogance is only outweighed by his sliminess. You drop the sheets you were changing and stomp through the hotel looking for him.

He's nowhere to be found. Finally, you go back to Betty and decide to ask. They're not used to the staff approaching them, but Betty used to work in a hotel too, so her shock fades quickly.

"Where is Mr. Hale?"

"Oh, I believe he's in the main performance tent preparing for tonight."

"Just what is the performance tonight?"

"It's that boy with the gospel group. He's so good! You should listen, if you're able to."

"I'll find a way. He's my son." Betty's mouth pops open and you turn and walk away.

******

At the performance tent, you stand in the back and watch as your son practices with the quartet. Walter is there too, playing the piano. You try desperately not to notice how attractive he is with his hands on the keys. You swallow deeply, shake your head, and go back to watching your son. When he sings with the quartet, your mouth drops.

He's incredible.

You knew he was talented, but always in a raw, unrefined kind of way. But now? Now he sounds like a little polished songbird, hitting notes and making runs like nothing you've ever heard before. He hears the harmony instinctively and sings it with grace, blending perfectly with the lower voices. His vibrato is beautiful and you wonder how he learned all of this in two weeks. That's when Walter stops them, stands up from the piano and kneels down in front of Joey. You can't hear what he's saying to him, but Joey is spellbound listening. He nods cooperatively. Then, they sing together.

You inhale sharply when you hear Walter's voice. It sounds like an older, deeper, baritone version of your son's soprano. He's giving instruction as he sings and Joey blends his sound with Walter's perfectly. They sound like they were made to sing together and you absolutely melt. The sincerity on Walter's face as he coaches your son would be impossible to fake. He meant it when he said he wanted to mentor Joey. Tears gather in your eyes and you begin to imagine the possibilities for his future.

You back slowly out of the tent to go home and change. You decide not to interfere with the performance tonight.

******

On stage, Joey is perfect and he absolutely shines. He is a performer. He sings his three songs and then sits down in the front row of the tent as the show continues.

But it's Walter that you can't keep your eyes off of. Every move he makes elicits a physical response from you.

At one point, he looks out to the crowd and catches you biting your bottom lip. He has to work not to laugh when you gasp and blush. Naturally, he spends the rest of the evening teasing you with looks and winks and subtle movements. By the end of the show, you're both so hot and bothered that you almost can't stand it.

As the show concludes and everyone makes their way out of the tent, you stand still, eyes glued to Walter as he talks to people. He knows you're watching him, so the smile he can't suppress is real. He stands with Joey as people compliment them both and they look so fitting there together that you almost would think they were father and son. That damn near kills you too. Finally, Joey sees you and comes bounding towards you to celebrate his success. You give him the biggest hug and tell him all your favorite parts of the show as Walter excuses himself from his conversation and saunters over. He ruffles Joey's hair and leaves his hand on his shoulder.

"Your boy is a hit, ma'am."

"I noticed. Thank you for working with him."

"I wonder if you have some time tonight to negotiate more about whether we make him a permanent member of the Chautauqua."

"I think I can manage that. Can he-" Walter turns and calls to Betty. She walks over cautiously.

"Betty will take him over to the children's tent for the evening, so we can talk privately." He gestures to Betty and she reluctantly takes Joey and walks out of the tent. That leaves just the two of you alone.

"Come over to my office." He puts his hand on the small of your back and guides you to the stage. He sits down on the piano bench and pats the spot beside him for you to sit down too. You do and automatically put your hands on the keys. You haven't played a piano in years.

"Do you play?"

"Mhmm. A little. But not in a long time." You nervously begin the top part of a duet piece that you used to play as a child. He begins the bottom part and you're surprised at how well you play together. You relax a little as you continue and the song comes back from your memory. He watches you as he plays, an almost strange look on his face.

Eventually, you look up at him too, but you're not as practiced, so you fumble the keys when you do.

"Oh, whoops, I-"

But before you can apologize for mixing up the melody, his lips are on yours. Without another thought, you turn your body to face his and the kiss escalates to a fever pitch, your tongues moving wildly as your hands begin to roam. He puts one hand on your hip and the other on your neck and pulls you in close to him while your arms go around his neck. All of the tension from the evening of flirtation comes pouring out of both of you into the kiss.

He turns and lifts you until your bottom is on the keys and he's in between your legs, still pulling you in to kiss him deeply. Then he stands up, lifting you again to place you on top of the grand piano. You notice his erection as he stands there and he gives you a look almost asking for permission to do more than kiss you. You nod and he pushes your dress up over your hips and pulls your bloomers down and off. You've never been with a man that wasn't your husband, so you blush a little at the speed with which he undresses you. He notices the change in your demeanor and looks into your eyes.

"Do you want me to stop?" You swallow and take a deep breath. He looks down at himself and back up at you. "I can-"

"No. Don't stop."

"You're sure, honey?" You grab the front of his jacket and pull him into a passionate kiss. Then, you push his jacket off of his shoulders and kiss his neck. You whisper as you do.

"Don't stop." He grunts and unbuttons his vest as you pull his tie off, your hands trembling with desire. He goes back to kissing you and puts both hands on your ass to pull you in as close to him as you can get from your position on top of the piano. You begin to unbutton his shirt and eventually get it off of him and onto the floor with the rest of his clothes. He uses both hands to lift your dress up over your head and remove your bra. A soft moan escapes his lips as he looks down at your body, naked and sitting on top of the piano. He kisses down your chest, caressing your breast with one hand and licking a slow circle around your other nipple. You whimper as he keeps moving down your body with his mouth, sitting on the piano bench and spreading your thighs to get to your center. He leans forward, putting both hands on your ass, and drags his tongue up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top. It's been so long since you've had a man touch you like that that it almost takes your breath away. You lean back and he goes to work licking your clit.

"Oh! Walter!" You moan as he moves his tongue on you in circles. He licks you fervently and you feel the coil of your orgasm begin to tighten between your legs. The pleasure of what he's doing with his mouth is exquisite and you cry out again. He pulls back a little and looks up at you from his position between your thighs.

"Honey, I don't wanna stifle you, but we are in a tent." All of a sudden you become very aware of the fact that there are no doors or walls separating you from the rest of the camp. It should scare you, but it has the opposite effect. He notices the way you arch your back and smiles. "Good girl."

He leans into you again and goes back to licking you, sliding his tongue over and around and across your clit. You're right on the edge of your orgasm and he knows it. He sucks on you lightly, backs up and blows on you, and then dives in and licks harder than he has so far and you tumble over the edge, coming harder than you ever have before, the blood rushing from your core out to your fingertips in electric bolts.

"Oh God, Walter." You groan through gritted teeth as you ride the high of your orgasm and he devours you like his life depends on it. When you finally come back down to earth, you push him backwards and slide forward off of the piano into his lap. You kiss him again deeply, tasting your own sweetness on him, and grind against his hardened cock.

"You're gonna make a mess of my pants, honey." He whispers in your ear as you nibble on his earlobe.

"Do you care?"

"No. I really don't."

"That's what I thought." You grind against him again and he whimpers. Then, you back off of him and stand up between him and the piano. He stands up too, pushing the piano bench back away from him. Your hands go to his pants button and you smirk at the wet spot on the front of them. He helps you undo them and then slides them down, kicking his shoes off, as his cock bounces free. You shouldn't be surprised at how beautiful it is, but you are. It's long and straight and you don't hesitate to drop to your knees in front of it, fully intending to worship it with your mouth. He groans and puts his hand on the top of the piano to steady himself as you push his foreskin back and lick a slow circle around the head. You drag your tongue up the bottom of his shaft and then take him fully into your mouth, opening your throat until he hits the back of it.

"Shit, y/n." He moans while you begin to bounce on him. You move your hands around to his ass to hold him still while you slide your mouth up and down. You push him as deep as he'll go again and bury your nose in the soft patch of hair at the base of him. He makes some kind of guttural grunt and then grabs your hair, pulling gently to get you to back off of him. As you stand back up, he turns you around to face the piano and kisses your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, honey, I wasn't ready to finish yet." He lines himself up with you from behind and teases your entrance with his tip. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes, Walter, oh!" He pushes into you from behind, filling you slowly. You feel every inch of him as your pussy stretches to accommodate his size. He begins to move in and out of you, picking up a steady rhythm.

"Good girl. You like this?" He asks as he pounds you from behind, holding your hips with both hands while you grasp at the top of the piano.

"God, yes, don't stop!"

"You like it when I fuck you hard like this?"

"Yes, fuck, Walter!" You hit the keys as he slams into you and it makes a kind of atonal music to go along with the sound of your skin slapping together rhythmically. Everyone outside the tent knows exactly what's going on inside and you don't even care. With his cock buried so deep inside you, the only thing you can think about is how close you are to coming again.

He pulls out of you without warning and flips you around to face him, pushing back into you quickly.

"Join the Chautauqua. Come with me. Stay with me." He says it between kisses as he fucks you much more gently now.

"Is that what this is all about?"

"No. I just can't let you go after this." You look into his eyes and he looks into yours. You can tell he's on the brink of his climax, just like you are. His hair drips with sweat and he might be the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"Yes. Okay. I'll come... with... you." As you say it he groans loudly and fills you with warmth and you fall head first into a full body wave of pleasure. He pumps a couple more times weakly while you shudder and tremble with ecstasy. You both breathe heavily as he presses his forehead to yours.

"Did you mean that?"

"Yes. I did." He slides out and falls backwards onto the piano bench, pulling you down into his lap. He kisses you again deeply and then rests his head on your shoulder with his arms around your waist.

"Welcome to the Chautauqua."

"Are you my boss now?"

"Honey, I'll be anything you want me to be, as long as you don't leave me."

"Leave you or the company?"

"Both. But mainly me." He kisses your shoulder and gives you a sly look. You're still not sure if this was about you or the Chautauqua, but you're willing to join him on the road and find out. This is your chance to get out of this town and see what the world has to offer. He's just icing on the cake. Delicious, sweet, and probably bad for you, but definitely worth it in the end. If anyone has anything to say about it, well, they can clean up their own backyard.

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @rjmartin11 @aliypop @your-nanas-house @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @lookingforrainbows @joshuntildawn13 @tacozebra051 @dkayfixates @deniseinmn @18lkpeters @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @pebbles403 @from-memphis-with-love @elvisalltheway101 @deltafalax

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Walter hale 50 covering their mouth to shut them up. 😏

Hungry

A/N: Well this was fun. Any excuse to get dirty with Walter.

Pairing: Walter Hale x reader

Word count: Just a smidge over 1K

TWs: This is a smutfest. Walter is a soft dom, praise kink and some really dirty stuff with panties. Maybe the tiniest hint of orgasm denial.

You're the piano lady at the Chautauqua - you do all the accompaniment for the children’s singing during the daytime. You have no idea what Walter sees in you, when he has his pick of all the singers and dancers in every town. Not that you're under any illusion that you're the only woman he's sleeping with, that would be ridiculous. But he has been spending a lot of time with you lately. You run your fingers over the piano keys, doing a few scales absent-mindedly as you wait for the next kid. It's almost lunchtime. You can't wait for a break from this. 

Walter wanders into the tent where you're playing, eyes roving until they finally land on your figure, sitting behind the piano, just as he expected. He likes you a lot. You've got a little extra padding, in that kind of mid-thirties way, and he’s really been enjoying the effect it has on you. There’s a point that women hit at that age where they stop caring about what other people think of them and start caring about having a good time instead. He can’t understand why you haven’t been snapped up by someone already, but then maybe you’d never have got to this stage. You love sex, and he loves doing it with you.

He stands at the side of the stage until someone shouts something about lunch, and then you feel his presence behind you. 

“Hungry, honey?”

You somehow find yourselves in a walk-in linen closet, which would be spacious if it wasn’t for the shelves of linen, you and Walter all being in there. The shelves dig into your back and Walter, pressed against you, digs into your front. Your arms are around his neck and he’s kissing you passionately, grinding against you just a little. You let out a little pleasured noise as he moves from your mouth to your neck. 

“Still hungry?” He asks, with a raised eyebrow and a smile playing on his lips. 

You don’t need to be asked twice, nodding and getting onto your knees as best you can in the cramped space. Freeing his dick from the confines of his pants, you set to work licking and sucking, and he bites his fist to stay quiet. It’s hard not to make a noise when you’re so good at this, but he doesn’t want to be found. Eventually he decides you’re getting him dangerously close with your mouth and he wants to finish somewhere else. He taps your cheek and you let him slide out again, and stand up, obediently. He pulls your long skirt up around your waist and your panties to one side, and then he’s inside you in one quick movement. Grunting, his cheek pressed against yours as he rolls his hips into you again and again. 

“Oh, Walter! It feels so good.” You can’t help yourself, something just makes you want to tell him how his dick makes you feel. How much you love it. 

He moves his head just enough so you can see the smirk spreading across his face. 

“Is that so, honey?”

You nod quickly, and then the moaning starts. You don’t mean to moan, but every time he fucks you it drives you crazy and the noises just pour out of you. He’s still smirking, because he can’t help loving hearing you like this, but he starts to shake his head just a little too. 

“Uh-uh. You’ve gotta be quiet, honey.”

“Mmmm. I… I c-can’t…” you stumble over the words, brain feeling like mush. “...’s too good…”

He’s still slowly rolling himself into you, and he shakes his head a little more as he presses his hand over your mouth. 

“Gotta be quiet,�� he says again, and then he starts to really fuck you. 

Your eyes roll back in your head as he thrusts harder and faster, his fingers pressing against your soft lips, fingertips digging into your cheek. 

“Good girl,” he mumbles, knowing he’s getting close and thinking you probably are too. But he doesn’t want you squeezing him and tipping him over the edge right now. 

Keeping his hand over your mouth, he slows down and pulls out, and you stare at him in gasping surprise. Not that it’s very easy to gasp with your mouth clamped shut, a snort of air rushing out of your nose instead. 

“Shhh,” he reiterates, before moving his hand. He needs both of them for this. 

Jerking himself with one hand, he pulls the top of your panties down with the other and rubs his dick through your folds, struggling to hold back a moan as he feels his release growing closer and closer. You look down at what he’s doing, dazed, and gasp as he cums all over your pussy and in your panties, making a mess in your underwear. Putting your own hand over your mouth instinctively, you watch as he moves back, letting your skirt fall back down to hide what he’s just done. Taking a few steadying breaths, he puts himself away again and then looks at you. You’re completely dumbfounded, and really, really horny. 

The smirk is back when he sees the look on your face. He puts his hand back over your mouth, and his lips to your ear. 

“Want ya to sit and think about me for the rest of the day now, honey.”

You groan into his palm. As if you were going to do anything else after that. 

“Then tonight I might give ya what ya want.”

He moves his hand and looks at you. 

“Yes, Walter,” you breathe. 

Another little smirk. “But no takin’ those panties off. Want you in ‘em all day.”

You accidentally moan out loud again and he tuts, clamping his hand back over your mouth. 

“What did I tell ya? Shhh.” He softens then, smiling down at you. “Not that I don’t love those pretty little noises of yours. But save them for tonight, hm?”

“Yes, Mr Hale,” you tell him, when he moves his hand again. 

He hums approvingly. “Good girl. And keep those panties on. I’ll be checking.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Kinktober Day 15 - Cock rings/cages

Pairing: Walter Hale x reader

Word count: 434

TWs: Cock ring, reader calls Walter Daddy, p in v sex.

Kinktober masterlist

Walter drives you crazy. He wanders around with that lazy grin, puffing away on that cigar, teasing you. He takes any opportunity he can to touch you, look at you in that way, whisper in your ear. You spend most of the day, every day, dripping. You know he’s enjoying himself too, when he rubs himself against you. The confidence, the swagger… it should wind you up, but you’re down bad and Walter knows it. 

He drags you into his lap for the umpteenth time that day and you press your body against his. His lips press against your skin and you moan. 

“Walter… I have to work…”

“Mmmm. I’m in charge here baby and I say you don’t,” he replies, words muffled as he carries on kissing down your neck to your shoulder. 

You can’t help yourself, rolling your hips against him. You’re sure you shouldn’t still be this turned on. He’s already given you three orgasms and it’s barely dinnertime. 

“I have to set up for the show tonight…” you try.

Walter shakes his head, unbuttoning his pants and freeing his rock hard cock. He’s always hard, whenever you want him and whenever he wants you. It’s all down to the ring he wears at the base of his cock, restricting the blood flow. It freaked you out the first time you saw it, but then he patiently explained it to you and you’ve been feeling the benefits ever since. 

“C’mon baby,” he says, pushing your panties out of the way as he lifts your hips up. “I know you want this cock.”

You sink down onto his length with a sigh. He fills you up so perfectly every time. 

“Feels so good,” you murmur. 

“Bounce f’me baby.” 

You start to move on him, gathering pace as you watch his reaction. His blue eyes sparkle with lust, his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Gonna cum for me, Daddy?” You ask, in that cute little voice you know he likes. 

He groans, feeling his balls tighten. “Yes.”

He taps your ass quickly and you jump off his lap, dropping to your knees between his legs to finish him off with your mouth. The cock ring doesn’t just keep him harder for longer, it makes his orgasms that much sweeter. He bites his fist to stop his scream when you make him cum, feeling pleasure rush through his body as he explodes in your mouth. 

You lick him until he’s soft, then remove the cock ring for him. Taking it and putting it in his pocket, he winks. 

“Might need this for later, baby.”

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[atleastpleasetelephone]

This is my first time ever requesting but I was wondering if you could write a story about walter hale x reader. Like reader dancing on stage and he watches from the crowd but gets turned on somehow and his to take care of it but gets caught by the reader and it goes from there. 😍🙏🏻

Just what you need

A/N: Hi there anon! I'm very flattered to be the writer you asked for your first ever request! And I'm always overjoyed to have an excuse to write about Walter and spend some time thinking about that sexy smirk and that white suit... Anyway, I hope this story fits the bill. He got a bit more submissive than I was anticipating...

Pairing: Walter Hale x singer!reader

Word count: 3.8K

TWs: Smut, Walter is a little submissive, borderline a little foot stuff but it's mostly Walter liking her heels. Think that's it!

Walter saunters into the busy tent, looking around lazily. Your voice sounds great and the number of people here to watch you makes him glad he made the booking. He absolutely did it on the strength of your voice… and the length of your legs. They just seemed to go on forever and he thought they should be appreciated by the masses. He’s not a leg man particularly, but when you’d auditioned they were what was on display. Those legs, and your pretty little face. Right now you’re singing something French, and the way the words sound he has the urge to get a little closer. He weaves his way through the people, nodding and smiling at everyone he knows. Which is most people. He always tries to get to know as many people as possible everywhere he goes, being the sociable type but also believing that it’s good for business. He eventually gets to a couple of rows back and now he can see you properly. Your legs are shown off to great effect by the tight sequined dress you’re wearing, and not just that, the plunging neckline reveals you’ve got great tits too. Walter takes a deep drag on his cigar. The way you’re wiggling and singing the French words breathily into the mic is more than a little suggestive. He can feel something stirring below his waist and he rearranges quickly to make sure it’s not obvious. 

You finish the song and look out across the crowd as the applause ripples through it. Your eyes flick across a tent full of strangers and then alight on him. Mr Hale. The undeniably sexy man who booked you to do this job. You’re confident onstage but off it is a very different matter, and the way he’d looked at you had made you stumble over your words and blush deeply. It’s fairly dark in the tent so you can’t see him that well, but you could swear that the tables have been turned and he’s looking a little flushed himself. You bite your lip and start to sing the next song, another sultry number, trying to only look at him every so often to assess the effect you’re having on him. Sliding your hands down the mic stand and then back up again, your eyes flick over to him unbidden, and you see something that looks suspiciously like him fiddling with his belt. You sway your hips back and forth to the music, purring out another verse as one hand moves to your hair, digging into it, your head rolling around with your eyes closed in ecstasy. 

Walter’s brain short-circuits watching you, immediately imagining you on his bed, moaning as you close your eyes and move your head around like that on the pillow. His dick is achingly hard and he realises he can’t stay where he is any longer. Repeating the exercise from earlier, he starts to weave his way out of the crowd, smiling and greeting everyone again, his teeth clamped around his cigar. He has to get back to his tent and relieve himself. This is the most turned on he’s been for a while and he hates to waste it on his own hand, but he doesn’t know you and you’re supposed to be onstage for another half an hour. He can’t wait that long. 

Your eyes open again as you launch into the chorus, and you realise at once that he’s gone. Disappointment hits you like a freight train. You were enjoying winding him up, or at least thinking you were winding him up, and now he’s got… bored? You’re supposed to be onstage for another half an hour but you’re not sure what the point is when the most interested party in your audience has just left. The song finishes and there’s another wave of applause. You smile, the adoration washing over you and buoying you up. Okay, maybe this is the point. 

“Walter!”

Walter stops in his tracks, just outside the tent. He turns towards the owner of the voice, and sees the middle-aged wife of one of the town’s business owners, who he’d spent the best part of an hour chatting up yesterday afternoon. 

“Mrs Everly! How nice to see you again.”

It isn’t nice. It’s a pain in the ass, and one he intends to get away from as quickly as possible. 

The woman moves closer and grips his arm with her hand. “I simply must talk to you about my son.”

Walter tries his best to smile. This is the last thing he wants to talk about, although the previously urgent problem below his belt has now been reduced to a sort of background hum of need, and he reluctantly comes to the realisation that he’s strapped in to this conversation for the foreseeable future. 

“Of course,” he coos. “Lawrence, isn’t it?”

***

You’ve almost forgotten about Walter by the end of your set, people are throwing flowers onstage as they whoop and cheer. This is your biggest crowd by a long chalk and you’re proud of your performance and their response to it. You curtsey as best you can in your tight dress, and then make your way off the stage. As soon as you’re off it your mind drifts back to the man who got you this gig in the first place. You wonder where he is and how you can find him, at least to say thank you for the opportunity. And to see if he’s still blushing, a naughty part of your brain suggests. Okay, so maybe that too. Pulling on a big woollen cardigan to make yourself a little more decent, you wrap it around yourself and walk out of the back of the tent. Someone hands you a celebratory drink and you clink glasses with them cheerfully, wandering around through the Chautauqua, looking into various tents and at the people as they pass you by. You’re still a little giddy from your performance and the glass of fizzy wine is only making things rosier. 

Walter finally extracts himself from the conversation as the roar of the crowd from your tent reaches his ears. So much for not being able to wait. His dick is soft and it’s like his entire body has forgotten you, your long legs and sexy singing. He sighs, tossing the end of the cigar into the grass and crushing it under the heel of his boot. He wonders about trying to find you. You had been a surprising turn on. Adjusting his hat, he turns away from the tent, intending on just going back to his own living quarters again. He’s tired, and starting to think that it would still be easier to just stay on his own. As the years have passed, he’s found it harder to jump from girl to girl as he moves from town to town. He’s not sure why exactly, but the urge to touch himself and not have to answer to anyone else is winning out again. That is, until he takes a step and almost collides head first with you. 

“Oh! I’m sorry!” You exclaim. You hadn’t been looking where you were going, exactly, and you don’t realise who you’ve bumped into until you’ve already apologised. Your face colours quickly. 

“No need to apologise, darlin’.” He grins as he takes you in again, so much closer this time. “Thought ya were fantastic up there.”

Your blush deepens. “Thank you so much. I wanted to find you actually,” you tell him, your bravery growing. “To thank you for taking a chance on me.” Stepping forward, you get up onto your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. It’s his turn to blush a little. Your perfume is intoxicating and your lips are soft. 

As you land back down on your feet you find yourself grabbing his arm for balance. You don’t move back, so you’re incredibly close to him, and you find yourself staring at his handsome face unabashedly. He adjusts his hat again and thinks about the fact that he needs to adjust somewhere else too.

“No problem, darlin’. Ya had a full house in there, so looks like I made the right choice.”

The corners of your mouth twitch, teasingly. “You left before the end, though?”

“Ah,” he pauses, pushing a hand into the pocket of his waistcoat. Wishing he had another cigar right about now. “Have ta keep movin’ about, ya know? Can’t stay in one place playin’ favourites. Even if I do have favourites.” His head tilts to the side a little as he fixes you with a stare that makes you feel like your soul is about to leave your body. 

You step back slightly to allow space for you to lift your glass to your lips and take a sip. You end up draining it, thirstily. When you look back, there’s a slightly smug smile playing on his lips, as if he’s liking the effect he’s had on you. 

“Well I um… I really appreciate you coming at all.”

The smirk grows at your use of the word coming, and you suddenly realise and cover your mouth with your hand, giggling. 

“What’re ya gigglin’ about, darlin’?” He teases as he steps closer to you again, sliding his palm onto your back. You move your hand to his shoulder, almost without realising what you’re doing. 

“N-nothing,” you stutter, reddening again. 

“Oh. Nothin’.” He’s so close now you think he might kiss you, merriment making his eyes sparkle. Then just as suddenly as he’d drawn you towards him he lets you go, stepping away again and surveying the mess he’s made. You’re breathing hard, your face is beautifully flushed and your teeth have captured your lower lip and don’t seem like they want to give it up any time soon. “Let me find ya another drink, seens as ya’ve finished that one.”

You let him take you by the hand, leading you through the crowd as he looks for the nearest bar. There are people everywhere though, and he keeps getting waylaid. In the end he decides to give up on the bar and just take you back to his living quarters, where he knows he has something cold and fizzy, kept for just such an occasion. 

“I hope ya don’t mind,” he explains, as he pushes the door open. “Thought it would be a little easier ta talk here. Not so many people demandin’ my attention.”

You nod and let him lead you to a small sofa on one side of a little dining table. Once he’s got the cork out of the bottle and found some glasses he sits opposite you, pouring two drinks and staring into your eyes again as he clinks the glasses together and declares your performance a roaring success. You take a sip and smile and he takes his hat off and lays it on the table, running a hand through his thick black hair. 

“Hope ya don’t mind me makin’ myself comfortable, honey.”

The bubbles must’ve gone to your head, because you shrug off your cardigan and grin at him, telling him you don’t mind at all. His eyes almost pop out of his head, and he tries to calm himself down by taking off his own jacket. It doesn’t work. 

“You like my dress?” You ask, apparently still fuelled by the high of your performance and a glass and a half of wine. Leaning forward a little, you squeeze your arms against your breasts just enough to make them even more prominent than they were before. 

Walter finishes his glass in one gulp and stands up, moving round to your side of the table and sitting next to you on the couch. 

“I do, honey. I really, really do.”

His hands cup your face and his lips press gently against yours. You respond eagerly, tongue running over his plush, soft lips, begging for entrance to his mouth. He’s tempted to tease you, but his dick has taken over the thinking for him and so he opens his mouth, turning his head so he can explore yours with his tongue, hands never leaving the sides of your face. 

Your fingers reach for him, running up his thighs and starting to undo the buttons on his waistcoat. He pulls back. 

“You’re an eager little thing, ain’tcha?”

His hands move to rub up and down the tops of your arms, and your eyes drift down to his lap, where the outline of his dick is prominent. 

“I’m not the only one who’s eager,” you murmur in response, running a teasing finger over his clothed length. His breath hitches. 

“Well you’re so gorgeous, darlin’... wigglin’ away on the stage like that in this tight little dress…” his hands move to the hem of your dress, and he tries to push it up to your waist but only succeeds in bunching it up a little. “It’s enough to drive a man crazy…” those big, strong hands trail up your body, feeling the way you fill the dress out as he begins to kiss your neck. You can’t hold back a moan. “Though I think I might haveta get ya out of it now, so I can have what I want…”

His lips press kisses to your throat and your hands tangle in his hair in response. You wriggle forwards to let him reach behind you and unzip your dress, his head making its way between your breasts, kissing and nuzzling them as he pulls the dress down your shoulders, exposing your bra to him for the first time. He moves back to look properly and groans. Walter likes tits and yours are nowhere near a disappointment. Your chest is heaving and you try hard to get yourself back under control, standing up and peeling the rest of the dress off and letting it fall to the floor. He groans again, sure his dick is leaking when he sees the little wet patch on your panties. He forces himself to stand up, though he has the strangest urge to drop to his knees at the sight of you. 

“Is this what you want?” You breathe, feeling like there’s electricity in your veins. 

“Mmmm.” He kisses you again, his hands on your face as your fingers work overtime to get his waistcoat and shirt undone.

He pulls the sleeves off over his hands without stopping his exploration of your mouth, his clothes dropping to the floor as he grabs you, pulling you tightly against him. You make out for a while, hands all over each other, desperate for more but trying to enjoy the moment. As he steps back finally, a little breathless, the urge from earlier returns. He decides to indulge it, kneeling before you and sliding his hands onto your thighs, looking up as he mouths you through your already soaked panties. 

“Shit. Walter.”

“Feel good, honey?” He asks, his words buzzing against you. 

You nod dumbly, pleasure teasing you as he keeps licking through your thin little panties, teeth grazing your sensitive spots. You let out a little whine and his fingers loop through the waistband, pulling your underwear down at glacial speed, slowly revealing you to him. He eyes your pussy hungrily, abandoning your panties half way down your thighs. A firm lick to your clit has you whimpering, and he loves the sound. His thumbs hold your lips open as he continues his exploration, tongue lapping at your arousal. 

“Oh God.”

He looks up at your face again, your head thrown back as your hand rakes through your hair. That’s enough to convince him that you’re already close, and he pulls your panties down to your ankles, helping you step one foot out of them and slinging your leg up and over his shoulder. You squeak, your ass making contact with the table as you wobble from the effort of standing on one high-heeled foot. 

He moves his face just far back enough to tell you to hold onto his head and then buries himself between your thighs, his hands gripping the sides of your ass. You do as you’re told, starting off holding on gently, but as soon as you feel his tongue press inside your pussy you forget about handling him with care. You wobble, your leg shaking, and you find yourself falling backwards onto the table. A glass crashes to the floor. He grunts as you pull his hair, your hips bucking up into his face as he dives even deeper into you. One of your hands lets go to slam your palm against the table, so close to release now. Your leg wraps around his head forcing his face against your pussy as you rut against him, starting to whine desperately. He can’t breathe but he doesn’t care, just wanting to get you there. 

Finally your orgasm washes over you, making you clench your hands into fists and curl your toes, crying his name over and over again like a prayer. He thinks it might be the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. 

“Oh God,” you whimper again, as you finally let him go and he rocks back onto his heels, trying to get his breath back. “Are you okay?”

The urgency with which his dick is pressing against his pants is suggesting otherwise, but he just grins and tells you yes. You’re just starting to think about peeling yourself off the uncomfortable table when he stands up and rids himself of the rest of his clothing in record time. 

“Don’t go anywhere, darlin’,” he coos as he rubs his dick against your pussy. 

You barely have time to think, never mind try to go anywhere, before he’s pushing inside you. He’s hung and it hurts but you don’t care. You’re still dizzy from your orgasm, and you feel like you’re floating in space. He puts both of your ankles on his shoulders once he’s bottomed out, watching your face for his cue to move. You’d squeezed your eyes shut as he pushed inside, but they spring open now, full of lust. 

“You okay, darlin’?” He finds himself asking, despite his desperate urge to move, his lips finding your ankle bone and kissing there. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

Starting to thrust slowly, short, deep movements, he grips one calf in each hand. Your mouth falls open in ecstasy. He feels so good inside you don’t think you could speak right now if he begged you to. His eyes skate over your face and your breasts, still cocooned in your pretty lacey bra. 

“Take that off f’me, honey,” he murmurs, nodding at the final item of clothing. 

You struggle to reach behind you on the table, but you manage eventually, unclasping the bra and shrugging it off. He swallows, eyes hooded with lust. He can’t keep this slow pace up anymore, and he pulls almost all the way out to slam inside you with force, his eyes glued to your breasts as they bounce. 

“Oh!” You cry out in surprise. 

He grunts, repeating the movement again and again, feeling his release in the base of his dick now. Turning his head slightly, he licks from half way down your calf to your ankle, changing pace, his thrusts speeding up as he lets his tongue explore below your ankle bone, trailing along the soft leather of your shoe. The whole table shakes with his powerful thrusts, and you see the sweat standing out on his skin, feeling the way it sticks your skin together around the part where you’re joined. 

“Walter!” You can’t think of anything else to say, you don’t even know what you’re trying to convey as the pleasure tips you over the edge into senselessness. 

“Almost there, baby,” he moans, his thumb finding your clit in an attempt to coax another orgasm out of you. 

The feeling jolts you into the room and you find yourself climaxing again, softer and more gentle than the last time, but just as strong. 

“Oh GOD!”

His hands grab the tops of your thighs as your legs bend and fall off his shoulders, and he pulls you quickly towards him as he thrusts again. He pounds your pussy a few more times, and then he’s closer than he’d like to be inside a girl and he pulls out and cums hard and messily all over your belly. He holds the edge of the table for balance as his mind reels from the intensity of the pleasure. As soon as he can manage it, he bends down and rummages around in his clothes for his handkerchief, carefully wiping you clean with it. 

You sit up slowly and look around you, dazed. He smiles at you, taking one of your hands and using it to help you stand up. You groan. 

“Ow. My back…”

He rubs it gently with his other hand. 

“Sorry darlin’. Ya wanna go lie down in a real bed for a while? Let me kiss it better?”

You smile and nod. “I’d love to.”

He leads you through another door into his bedroom, pulling the bedclothes back and gesturing for you to get in first. You step out of your heels and slip between the soft clean sheets, and he gets in with you. He rolls you gently onto your side, facing away from him, and starts to kiss you from the nape of your neck down. You feel like your nerve endings are on fire, and every kiss has you trembling. 

“Mmmm. Walter.”

“Next time we’ll make love in the bed,” he mumbles against your skin. 

“Next time?”

He pauses, dragging his lips back up to your ear and letting you fall onto your back again. Looking down at you, his eyes full of concern. 

“Only if ya want, darlin’.” This might be the first time he’s ever been worried about a girl saying no.

“I’d love to. But… I need to keep singing to make a living and you’ll move on soon too…”

The words come out of his mouth before he has time to think about them. “Why don’tcha join the Chautauqua permanently? Travel with me?”

Your eyes go wide. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then I’d love to.” 

He smiles, curling his body around yours and laying his head down on your chest. He’s never invited a girl to travel with him before, but something about this just feels right, and he sighs contentedly as he closes his eyes. He’s glad he took a chance on booking you for tonight. You’re just what the Chautauqua needs, and you might be just what he needs, too. 

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