#glenn Tipton fanfiction

[eyes-of-rock]

Love Bites

One shot

Glenn Tipton X OC (unnamed)

Warning(s): ⚠️SMUTTY⚠️

Plot: Glenn shows her how beautiful she truly.

A/N: Please bare with me as I don’t usually write smut <3 Anyways feel free to like reblog and comment.

“Hello buddy.” I greet as I kneel down and pet Rex, he’s a big German shepherd, and one of the sweetest dogs I’ve ever met. Everytime I go and visit his dad he always greets me happily wagging his tail. Speaking of his dad, where is he? He usually meets me out front as well though he’s not nearly as cute, but close.

I met Glenn a year ago, he came into the pub I worked at and thought “he’s cute.” Of course, being the shy person I am, I never acted on it, especially when one of my co-workers pointed out he was Glenn Tipton, one of the guitarists of Judas Priest. I mean he’s a rockstar, why the hell would he want anything to do with me?

I’m a totally normal girl from a village in the midlands. Nothing about me is remarkable, nothing makes me stand out from anyone else, that’s why when he came up to me and started talking I was shocked. Yet here I am a year later, his girlfriend.

Hmmm…where is Glenn? He could be in his house or rather mansion, nestled between a lovely river and picturesque English countryside. Yet I don’t think so, because if he was he would have met me in the drive. I have a feeling I know where he is, his studio.

I sigh, I love Glenn but he is a self proclaimed workaholic. Once he’s got an idea for a song he’ll spend hours held up in his studio working on it until it’s just right or he’s abandoned the idea.

I walk over to the studio, it’s a second much smaller building he built next to the house. I don’t even knock, I just walk in, and climb the stairs to the upper level.

Sure enough, there is Glenn holding his phantom, the black guitar with the shiny mirrored scratchplate. I’m not a guitar expert by any means, but I know that guitar. He’s sitting down behind the control board with a notebook scribbling something with one hand while holding the guitar up right on his lap with the other.

I lean up against the door frame as I watch him, wondering how long it will take him before he realises I’m standing here. When Glenn is laser focused like this rarely does anything else distract him.

He happens to glance up in a moment of thought and notices me. He looks shocked at first but it quickly fades into a smile.

“How long have you been standing there?” He asks, setting down his pen, and leaning back in his chair, giving me a look over.

“Only for a few seconds.” I tell him before adding in a teasing nature. “A personal best for you.”

Glenn chuckles a bit at that before saying, “You’re lucky you look so bloody beautiful standing there, right now.”

This takes me aback. Me? Right now? What the bloody fuck is Glenn on about? I think he needs his glasses. I have bags under my eyes from working the late shift last night and dealing with rowdy customers. I threw on this first thing I could find, an old t-shirt and a pair of tight jeans. Hell I can’t even remember if I ran a brush through this rat's nest I call my hair. ’m not dressed to impress.

“I think you need your glasses. I'm far from beautiful right now.”

Glenn doesn’t say anything in response for a second, as he stands up and places his guitar on the stand.

“I hate it when you say that. You’re always beautiful love.” He says, “If you don’t want to see that, then I’ll have to show you.”

I’m about to protest, when he cuts me off by planting a soft tender kiss on my lips. I melt into him enjoying his touch, I need him. Like I said it was rough last night I need Glenn to kiss it all away.

He then moves down my neck to where I have faded love bites and gently places his lips back on it. He starts sucking and nipping at my flesh, and it sends electricity through my body, coaxing out a moan from my lips.

I love when he marks me up. It keeps the blokes in the pub off me and I just like that he wants to mark me up to claim me as his.

“Bloody beautiful.” He mumbles into my neck and he continues, managing to pull another moan from me.

“Glenn.” I whine as he unexpectedly pulls away, he can’t stop yet, I need him. I realised how bad till this moment but I bloody need him.

“I’m not done with you yet, love.” He says, lifting my shirt up over my head exposing my bra.

It’s not some beautiful lacy thing, it’s a plain black bra I’ve owned forever, usually this would embarrass me, but I know it won’t last long anyways. It’s an obstruction to what Glenn really wants, my tits underneath.

Sure enough he hastily unhooks the back as I shemy out of it and he tosses it some place behind him. Not to self when I try to find it later.

Glenn then starts kissing across my tits, first gently across the top, then he starts kissing my left nipple while gently rubbing his thumb over the other.

I moan again this time a little louder than the last time, I can feel the pleasure pooling in my pussy, with each pass of his tongue over my nipple I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter, thirstier and thristier for his cock.

I moan again, this time letting name slip from my lips. His mouth leaves my nipple and he starts kissing down my and over my stomach stopping at the waistband of my jeans.

He quickly pulls them down as I step out of them. The only piece of clothing left on me is my knickers and I know that won’t last long. In fact I can already feel him sliding them down my legs, revealing my soaking wet pussy to him.

“Nice and wet for me.” He says a smirk on his lips, as he spreads my legs a bit and slides a long slender finger over me.

I gasp but it quickly turns into a moan.

“What do you want my love?” He asks as he continues to tease me by sliding his finger over me softly.

“I want your cock.” I moan out, as he removes his finger from my pussy and licks all my wetness right off. Of course that makes me moan again, because honestly what can be hotter?

He takes a step back as he takes off his shirt, revealing his chest and stomach. I can’t help but stare, sure he’s not jacked but I prefer it that way, a softer place to cuddle into later.

Just as Glenn’s about to take off his jeans revealing his gorgeous rock solid cock, the thing I want badly I swear my mouth is watering in anticipation. We both hear the sound of someone coming up the stairs, we both turn to look and sure enough there stands Ken Downing.

Glenn quickly jumps in front of me to cover me up, so Ken doesn’t see anything he’s not supposed to. Then let’s put an annoyed groan.

“Your timing couldn’t be worse.”

“I can always come back later.” Ken offers an amused smirk on his face.

“No, as much as it pains me to say so.” Glenn sighs, turning to me. “I’m sorry love, I promise the moment I’m done here….”

As much as it sucks, I understand and I also know he’ll make it up to me. I nod giving him a kiss as I quickly get dressed again.

On my way out I slap his ass and say, “I’ll see you later.” Leaving him with a smirk on his face and face and a promise as I leave the studio, looking forward to later.

[eyes-of-rock]

Blackrose’s and Rockstars

Part:I

Glenn Tipton X OC {Isabella Blackrose}

Warning(s): None.

Plot: Isabella “Izzy” Blackrose is the co owner of a pub in a small town in the worcestershire country side. One day a rockstar walks in and her whole life changes.

Please feel free to like, reblog and comment on it, it’s much appreciated, enjoy! <3

Isabella’s POV

Today sucked, yesterday sucked, this whole week sucked, hell this whole month and year sucked. Yet I power on. I power on for my mum and my family legacy if not for that I would have given up a long time ago.

Two years ago, my dad passed away and when he did I abandoned school in Birmingham to come home. I knew I needed to be here for my mum, to help her run the pub in his absence. I don’t regret my choice, because I know it’s the right one, still doesn’t mean I don’t wish I didn’t some days and today is one of them.

Nothing went right for me today. I slept through my alarm and I had to rush off to get here in time, in the process I managed to spill my tea all over myself, staining my shirt.

Then once I got here one of my bartenders was fighting with another over some bloke,and I had to break it up. Then my third bartender, the one who also runs food and drinks to the tables, called in sick and I had to fill in for her. Not to mention the order I got delivered was all wrong.

I haven’t had a second today to catch my breath, and the day is far from over for me. After all, in about two hours the after work and supper rush will come through. It’s a weeknight so the evening and night should be all to bad, since it’s a small down and everyone here is pretty working class meaning they can’t afford to fuck around on a week night. It will get dead at about eight o’clock and that’s why during the week we close my eleven.

I tuck that one annoying strand of my ginger hair behind my ear. It fell out of my messy bun ages ago. I just haven’t had the time or bothered to fix it. Just then I hear the bell on the door ring, signifying someone has entered the pub. I look up, with a smile on my face expecting to see someone I know or recognize. After all, this is a small village and I grew up here my whole life. I’ve seen every person who lives here at least once, especially considering this is the only decent place to eat or get a drink in the whole village.

Yet I don’t know this man. He’s got long hair that is heavily highlighted with blond, so much so you can barely see the darker colour underneath. He definitely stands out. You never see a bloke with long hair around here, and definitely not one of his age. He’s not young, he’s Middle aged I’d guess. Though time has definitely been kind to him.

He’s wearing a simple outfit though, not something you’d expect from someone with hair like that. He’s wearing an oversized plain black t-shirt, some jeans and a pair of trainers. He’s not wearing much accessory wise, except a sliver watch, a silver pinky ring and a pair of round sunglasses.

Despite not being able to see his eyes, he’s very handsome and intriguing. I wonder what his story is, did he just move here or is he just a passer through?

He takes a seat at the bar and I take my opportunity to see if I can solve any of this mystery as I serve him.

“Hello, welcome. What can I get you?” I greet him with my usual smile.

“Hello. Just a pint of whatever’s popular.” He replies, returning my smile and man does he have a beautiful smile.

“It’s a lovely place here.” He comments as I begin filling up a pint glass with our best seller.

“Thank you, I own the place. Well, I co-own it.” I tell him as I set the pint in front of him. “That will be £3.”

“Oh really? Well you’ve done a great job.” He says, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet, before pulling out a £5 pound note and handing it to me.

“It was all my dad really.” I admit as I ring him up and pull out two one pound coins to give him as change.

“Keep the change, love.” He says waving me off, “In that case you’ve done a great job preserving it.”

“Oh- Okay, thank you.” I say taken slightly aback, no one in this town has exposable income, so that never happens here. I mean yes it’s only two pounds but still.

“Are you new in town?”

“Yes actually. I moved into the big Georgian estate house nearby.” He tells me and I must admit I wasn’t expecting that from him. He doesn’t strike me as someone with a lot of money. He certainly doesn’t look the part with the long hair and rather plain clothes. Then it hits me. The long hair.

He’s most likely a rockstar. It would explain how he can afford to live in such a big house, you can make a lot of money doing that if you’re in one of the bigger bands. I'm trying to rack my brain. Is he familiar to me?

I happen to be a fan of rock, but I'm mostly a fan of the 70’s stuff like, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin. In fact those are my three favourite bands. I do enjoy a bit of 80s metal as well but more like the glam metal stuff then the true metal. So it’s possible he’s in a band I’m not a big fan of there for I didn’t recognize him.

“Oh, well I guess I’ll be seeing more of you then. I’m Isabella, or Izzy Blackrose by the way.” I say introducing myself to him hoping he does the same and his name seems familiar to me.

“It’s nice meeting you, I’m Glenn Tipton.” He says back.

Glenn Tipton. I sit and ponder that name for a second in my mind to see if I recognize it, then it hits me. He’s the guitarist of Judas Priest.

“You’re the guitarist of Judas Priest then?” I ask just to confirm though im sure it comes off like me being a fangirl or something similar.

“Well I was, I'm not sure there really is a Judas Priest anymore though.” Glenn tells me sounding rather not happy about the last bit, and in a way I feel for him. I’m sure the band was his life, and must be an adjustment for it to be over.

“Are you a fan?” He asks, looking at me curiously.

“Honestly? Not really. I like rock and metal, that's how I know. I'm more of a 70’s gal then an 80’s gal though, unless it's glam.” i tell him, feeling a bit bad about that he seems like a nice bloke. “I'm sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, love.” He laughs, “I was just going to offer an autograph, is all.”

“Oh, well thank you.” I say, feeling relieved he's okay with that, not that he'd really necessarily care as i said before he seems really nice and chill. He didn't walk in here with some rockstar attitude or saying im so and so, and he has my respect for it.

Then an idea hits me. Since he's offering anyway, why don't I take him up on it for the bar? I mean I could always use some new decor and would it be cooler than a signed photo of a famous customer?

“Actually if you wouldn’t mind I'd like a signed photo, for the pub. The decor is lacking a bit.”

“I'd be happy to love.” He smiles at me, “we can do it now if you have a camera, and I can come by and sign it whenever it’s developed.”

“I’ll just go get my camera real quick, it’s in the back.” I tell him to disappear into the back room where the office is and nicking my camera making sure it has film, which it does.

“Smile.” I tell him as I aim the camera, giving him a second to compose himself which he does rather fast. Something I’m sure he’s learned from years of having his photo taken as a rockstar.

He smiles at me and lifts his half gone pint in one hand, and I think that’s a pretty fitting pose for the wall of the pub. I snap a couple for good measure then lower the camera.

“I’ll give you a ring when they are developed?” I ask, I’m sure he’ll come back. This is the only restaurant or pub for miles, but I just want to make sure I don’t forget the photos or something when he does come around again. Also he’s cute, I’m not saying I’d go after him because why would someone like him want me when he could get a model or something, but it’s still nice to have a cute blokes number.

“I’ll give you my number.” He tells me, as I reach text to the till where I Keep a couple extra pens in case my waitresses lose one and grab a napkin handing it to him.

I watch as his long fingers grip the pen and he gracefully writes his number on the napkin. His handwriting is oddly neat for a man.

“Here you are love.” He says, handing me back the pen and napkin containing his number.

“Thank you.” I say taking it and gently folding the napkin pocketing it.

“Well I best be going.” He says looking down at his watch, then downing what’s left of his pint. “My ex should be dropping off my son soon.”

Oh so he’s single, is the first thing that comes to my mind as he says that statement. It’s only natural, he is very cute and nice. Not that he’d ever be interested in me, but a girl can dream.

“It was nice to meet you.” He smiles as he gets up, “I’ll be looking forward to your call.”

“It was nice meeting you too, please feel free to come by whenever.” I say with a smile, as he turns to leave. I must admit, I’m rather looking forward to seeing him again soon.