#rivals gifs

[sirphillipwithlove]

What kills me is that Rupert is a rake. He gets around, but when Taggie kisses him? He looks like he's inexperienced BECAUSE HE IS! He has never kissed someone that he actually has feelings for, and I think it shows! The shaking afterward and the way they both just don't know where to put their hands so they're all over the place? OOOO THIS IS SO GOOD 🫠

TAGGIE O'HARA and RUPERT CAMPBELL-BLACK Rivals S01E08

[jam3sacaster]

Merry Christmas, angel.

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by sweet @nebulastarr 🫶🏽

18+ FANFIC / Soft Christmassy Rupert with a smut! 🎄 Reader character aged at 21. Hope you enjoy! 🩷

Penscombe Court this Christmas was equivalent to a winter wonderland — a blanket of glittering snow covered the extensive fields, filling the cups of ivory snowdrops. Draped across the hallway, sitting room and kitchen were lengths of shimmery tinsel, shades of gold, red and green. Warm amber lights were pushed into any gaps not adorned in tinsel. The magnificent Christmas tree shone in the corner of the sitting room. And displayed around it was a mountainous pile of presents, wrapped slovenly but lovingly by Rupert. Your overexcited boyfriend led you down the winding staircase, his hands clamped over your eyes. “Santa has arrived, my darling.” He purred into your ear as he led you into the sitting room.

“Surprise!” He roared, removing his hands and watching as you blinked — slowly at first — in absolute awe. “My God!” You muttered, convinced that Rupert had ransacked Santa’s sleigh himself. “Rupert!” You giggled fantastically once more, turning to your lover to see him adorned in a Santa costume, his hat dangling gently from his head. The contented grin painted over his face filled your heart with unbridled joy. “Merry Christmas, angel.” Rupert exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you and planting a gentle kiss upon your lips. Your hazelnut eyes scanned the heap of presents, fingers itching to rip them open. “Can I start?” You asked, batting wispy eyelashes towards him. Rupert gave you a solemn nod, and watched as you collapsed onto the floor, desperately tugging at sparkling gold wrapping paper.

As predicted, Rupert had spent a fortune. Sitting on the chaise lounge with a gratified smirk, Rupert watched as you unwrapped the entire lookbook of your favourite boutique, a towering pair of stilettos, incredibly luxurious makeup and a set of curlers. He was surprisingly timid when opening his own gifts, kissing your forehead softly after every one — eternally grateful but regretful that you spent your own money. “I have one last thing for you.” You chirped, retrieving a compact red parcel from behind the couch. The small silver label read, ‘To my darling Rupert, Merry Christmas!’ Rupert winked towards you as he read it, carefully peeling open the gift. Inside the box, sat a golden Cartier watch, bedazzled and imposing. Beside it, a matching golden bracelet. You had never seen such a look of bewilderment on Rupert’s face — utter adoration and total shock. “Angel…” He whispered, running his fingers over the metallic strap of the watch. “Do you like it?” You asked expectantly, biting down on your bottom lip in suspense. “I love it!” Rupert boomed, setting it down gently on the plush purple fabric of the chaise lounge and pulling you onto his lap, kissing you passionately and stroking his fingers through your curled cocoa locks.

“You’re such a special girl, do you know that?” He purred, his brutish hands caressing the velvety skin of your thigh. You nuzzled your forehead into his chest, the plush red fuzz of the Santa costume sending shivers down your spine and his new aftershave intoxicating. “And because you’re such a special girl, I’ve got one more present for you. Follow me.” He beamed, taking a hold of your hand and leading you to the driveway. “Why are we going outside?” You begin to ask, but your jaw promptly swung open at the sight of a scarlet red Ferrari F40, a huge red bow tied across the bonnet. “Rupert!” You bellowed, padding barefoot onto the driveway and screaming uncontrollably in excitement. “You deserve it,” Rupert grinned, “So, let’s say we christen it? In the name of Christmas, of course.” He teased, beginning to untie his Santa coat and ripping down his trousers.

[xxdrixx]

🎁GIFts🎁 Rupert Campbell-Black in every episode of Rivals

for @castle-of-ruin 💕

[mckittenpants]

Rupert, when I find you…

RIVALS (2024-)

(inspired by x)

[hunnam]

Aidan Turner as Declan O'Hara Rivals 1.01, "Episode #1.1"

[ariadnethedragon]

RIVALS (2024-)

[dailyflicks]

AIDAN TURNER as DECLAN O'HARA in RIVALS (2024)

[inquisitiveg]

A N G E L Rivals (2024-)

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Forbidden Fruit.

That’s the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong… but it feels so right.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. use of the c word. age gap. cheating. declan’s filthy mouth needs its own warning.

word count - 2.3k

authors note - that man is a munch and I cannot be convinced otherwise. my crush on aidan turner has returned tenfold and i’m about to make it everyone’s problem. read declan’s dialogue in that gorgeous irish accent of his for the full experience.

masterlist. inbox.

You’ve fake laughed so much this afternoon that you can’t remember what your real one sounds like.

Finally breaking away from a conversation with Freddie’s wife, you swan across the garden in your sundress towards the food and drink table. You absentmindedly pick at the strawberries, hoping and praying that no one bothers you for a moment. All you need is a minute to yourself, away from all of these faux smiles and boastful exchanges.

Reaching towards a raspberry, you feel fingertips ghosting across your back quickly.

“Y’alright?”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere, of course, and not just because he’s the only Irish man in The Cotswolds.

“Bored out of my mind, actually.”

“You’d never know.”

“I’m a good actress, these days. I’ve done one too many of these stupid garden parties.”

He chuckles all genuine and honeyed, and you’d be lying if you said the sound didn’t settle warmly in your bones.

“Whatcha doing tonight?”

He’s keeping his voice low, inconspicuous. You’ve both turned so you’re looking out over the garden, backs to the table, watching the crowds of people and their gossiping. To anyone else, it looks like an innocent conversation between two acquaintances. They can’t see his hand playing with the hem of your dress behind you, or the way his fingers keep brushing the backs of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

“My boyfriend is coming over. You know that.”

“What time?”

You roll your eyes but answer anyway.

“Nine.”

“So what I’m hearing… is that you’re available from whenever this crap finishes until then?”

“That’s a stupid idea.”

“You usually love my stupid ideas.”

“Well maybe I’m trying to be smarter.”

He laughs with his full chest while you fight to keep the grin off your face, shaking your head.

“You’re already the smartest person here. Any smarter and we’re all doomed.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Declan.”

He pauses for a moment, pressing his side into yours and running his thumb across the soft skin of your thigh underneath your dress.

“I think we both know that’s not true, sweetheart.”

Your breath stutters as you will yourself to get it together, desperate to not repeatedly give in to his murmured promises and flirty remarks. It’s wrong. You know it is, both of you do, and yet…

“I want you gone by eight at the latest. I don’t need the two of you bumping into each other on my front step.”

He smirks like the cat that got the cream, looking down at you with lust drunk eyes.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Promise to make it worth your while, yeah?”

“You always do,” you breathe out, so quietly that you’re surprised he hears.

He’s about to reply when you’re both startled by Rupert, striding over with the confidence of ten men and a bottle of champagne in his hand.

“Have they run out of glasses, CB?”

He slings an arm around your shoulder, laughing that rich man’s laugh right into your ear.

“Live a little, darling. Walk with me, will you? I have a story that might be worth your time, and I thought I’d bring it to my favourite journalist before anyone else.”

Rupert all but drags you across the garden, already chattering on about a scandal in the local constituency of the Conservative Party. You cast your eyes back to where Declan hasn’t moved, his gaze roving over your figure as you walk away.

He winks cheekily, dirty smirk slapped across his face.

You hate the way it sends electricity running through your veins in anticipation.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s six forty five when there’s a knock on your door.

The devil himself is standing on your front step, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Hi darlin’.”

His accent is like molten honey, golden and warm and laced with sweetness. There’s mischief running through it though - as there always is.

“Come on,” you urge, grabbing his tie and pulling him inside, worried that one of your neighbours will see.

He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, unphased by your urgency.

“Thought you had a meeting. CB was telling me all about it earlier.”

“Rupert would tell you anything,” he chuckles. “He’s got a soft spot for pretty girls.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” you giggle, undoing his tie from around his neck and hanging it on your coat rack.

“No. I have a soft spot for one pretty girl.”

“Sweet talker,” you tease as you roll your eyes, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. “How about you put your money where your mouth is, hmm? We don’t have all night.”

He clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips to pull you against him.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in so his lips brush yours. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Less talking,” you scold, grabbing at his biceps to kiss him desperately.

Declan pushes you up against the wall, hips pressing into yours as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and whiskey and those mints he keeps in a tin in his back pocket. He scatters open mouthed kisses across your neck, licking across your skin and sucking the spot underneath your ear.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he mumbles. “Ever since I saw you in this dress.”

“You like it?” you breathe, head rolling to the side to give him more access.

“I fucking love it.”

“Good. Bought it for you.”

He groans, grinding his hips into yours.

“You’re a minx,” he pants, biting at your shoulder. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

With that, Declan wraps his arms around your middle, practically dragging you into the living room to throw you onto the sofa. He pulls your dress over your head, throwing it onto the floor with reckless abandon.

He instantly gets on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs with rough hands.

“Been waitin’ for this cunt all fuckin’ day.”

Your underwear is tugged down and discarded before you can blink, leaving you naked and high on the anticipation of it all. Your lungs are heaving, hands shaking as you will him to do something.

Declan sits back on his haunches, making a show of rolling up his sleeves. He looks so broad and commanding in his blue jeans with his shirt undone. He might be the one on his knees, but he’s definitely still in charge here.

You tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug, pulling him closer.

“Please, Dec.”

“You sound so beautiful when ya beg.”

He grips your thighs tightly, ensuring they stay apart, as he leans in and presses kisses to any skin he can find.

“Don’t tease.”

“Or what, hmm? What are ya gonna do, sweetheart?”

“Stop it,” you chastise, head dropping back onto the cushions. “Please, baby.”

He chuckles before diving forwards, licking a stripe through your core. He wastes no time, tongue flicking over your clit like he’s done so many times before.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, fingers gripping his hair tightly. “Fuck, Declan.”

You’re convinced he enjoys this just as much as you do. He’ll eat you out for hours, never once expecting something in return - happy to feel you fall apart on his tongue again and again and again.

He knows exactly which spots will have you arching your back, how much pressure to use to have you writhing on the sofa cushions, where to put his hands to push you right over the edge. He can play you like a fiddle, observant and experienced.

His nose nudges your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, messy and wet and completely committed. The grip he has on your thighs is getting tighter and tighter, fingertips bruising your skin. You pray you’ll be able to see the marks when you look in the mirror tomorrow.

You’re teetering on the edge of your release, legs shaking and abdomen tightening. Declan can read you like a book, knowing exactly where you’re at - and taking advantage of it.

Just as you’re about to come, he pulls away and sits back, grinning like a deviant.

“No,” you’re panting. “The fuck are you doing?”

He laughs, leaning down to rest his head on your leg. He looks up at you with a gaze that’s half lust and half mischief, biting at his lip as he watches your chest heave.

“What do you want, darlin’?”

You pout at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“Come on, let me hear you say it. I want you to beg me to make you come. Tell me how you’ve been waiting for it all day, sweetheart.”

“I-Declan, I just-”

“Come on smart girl, use that big brain of yours. Why don’t you tell me all about how you think about me when you touch yourself? No - why don’t you tell me how you think about me while he fucks you?”

Your hips buck up into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Declan laughs cruelly, wrapping his arms around your thighs again to pull you to the edge of the sofa, the strength he exerts only turning you on more.

“It’s okay,” he soothes against your core. “You don’t have to tell me. Your dripping wet cunt tells me everything I need to know, darlin.”

All you can do is moan, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel is Declan O’Hara.

“If we had the time, I’d edge you some more. Eat you out until you cried. You always look so pretty when you’re crying f’me.”

He finally takes pity on you, curling his tongue inside you as his nose repeatedly bumps against your clit. He’s practically making out with your core, saliva dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa. You can’t bring yourself to care about the mess, more focused on the older man’s mouth and the skills it possesses.

You’re whining, fingernails digging into his scalp as you grasp for something to hold onto. He’s groaning too, having just as much as fun as you are.

“Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how fucking beautiful you look.”

Your back bows off the sofa as you grind against his face, riding out your climax. Your thighs tighten around his head, desperate for him to keep going for as long as possible.

“That’s it. Atta girl. There we go.”

You’re trying to catch your breath as Declan stands up, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. His fingers draw patterns on your hips, absentmindedly calming you down as you nestle into him, seeking out his body heat.

You lean up and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth eagerly. He tastes like you, and the realisation makes you whinge.

“Let me return the favour, please,” you whisper against his lips.

“As much as I’d love that, darlin’… we can’t.”

You quirk a brow at him in confusion, his rejection more than unusual.

“It’s twenty past eight.”

“Oh, shit,” you groan, finding your underwear and pulling them up your legs.

“I wish I could stay,” he reassures as he kisses you again sweetly. “You know I do.”

You nod, running your fingers through his sweat soaked locks to move them out of his face.

“Promise I’ll repay you next time.”

“I’ll hold ya to that.”

The phone ringing startles you both, your heart jumping in your chest. You pick it up quickly, wrapping the cord around your finger.

“Hello? How are you? Ah, good. Yes, fine. Alright, I’ll see you then. Yes, see you soon. Mhmm… I can’t wait either.”

You put it down just as quickly as you picked it up, finding your dress from the floor and pulling it over your head.

“That was Patrick. He’s at the train station, about to start the drive back here. He won’t be long.”

“I best get going then,” Declan says as he buttons up his shirt. “Don’t need a family reunion in your living room now, do we?”

You shake your head, scoffing at his attempt at a joke. Walking him to the front door, you press his tie from the coat rack into his hand so he doesn’t forget it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I? You’re coming for lunch at the house?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you say as you lean up to kiss him, sighing at the taste of his lips. “I’ll wear that lacy white lingerie under my dress just for you.”

“Great,” he groans. “Now I have to think about my son seeing that on you when it should be me.”

“You might,” you tease, smoothing out his shirt. “There’s a lot of rooms in that house, Declan.”

“You’re a minx.”

He kisses you once more, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you in.

“See ya tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you will.”

You watch him go from your front step, making sure no one sees him leave. As soon as he’s out of sight, you’re shutting the door, trying to tidy the living room frantically. You open the windows, lighting a candle and picking up everything that was knocked to the floor in the lust filled frenzy. You’re covering your tracks as best you can, just like you’ve done countless times before.

You don’t need Patrick asking why the room smells like his dad’s aftershave.

You don’t need Patrick asking questions at all.

a little gift for you, as promised…

@do-it-for-kicks @whytheylosttheirminds @laverna-fanfictions @graceflorence

and of course, if you enjoyed this - throw me a little reblog if you so wish… help a girl out… <3

[elena-gilbert]

I can't breath without you. BELLA MACLEAN as Agatha ‘Taggie’ O'Hara and ALEX HASSEL as Rupert Campbell-Black RIVALS (2024 - )

[soranatus]

MISTER KNIGHT - In Comics & Rivals

[jam3sacaster]

Because I knew you, I have been changed for good. PT.2

(Rivals) Taggie O’Hara x Reader (Platonic)

Suggestion by a sweet anon 🫶🏽 / You, Rupert Campbell-Black’s daughter, make it your mission to befriend Taggie O’Hara. Read part 1 here.

18+ FANFIC / Platonic love! Mentions of Rupert. Reader character aged at 21. Hope you enjoy! 🩷

It had been years since you had had a girly sleepover — spending the night braiding each others hair, sharing your worst secrets and, finally, collapsing into a deep slumber just as the sun begins to rise. Since becoming acquainted with the sweet-tempered girl that is Taggie some weeks ago, you had practically spent every waking moment together, seeing more of Declan than you had of your own father. Tonight, the relentless downpouring of rain had begun to flood the driveway of The Priory, you and Taggie transforming into damsels in distress, locked away in her turret bedroom. The night sky was immensely dark, and peppered with a litter of glittering stars.

Taggie, dressed only in one of her father’s old shirts and with her copper hair braided behind her head, was curled up in her four-poster bed. Much like everything in her life, her bed was chaotically haphazard — lime green sheets tucked under a crimson red duvet, equally juxtaposed by plum purple pillowcases. You were adorned in a pink pyjama set, tiny lambs embroidered over the front — a gift to you by your father. “What is the naughtiest thing you’ve ever done?” Taggie asked, giggling to herself as she took a sip from her hot, steaming mug of sweet tea. “A few days after my 18th birthday, Daddy was in the Maldives. He said I could borrow the Quattro whilst he was away, but I took his Lamborghini for a test drive…” You began, hanging your head in shame. Taggie’s eyes were widened in anticipation. “It was going swimmingly until I put my foot down too hard outside of Cotchester and crashed into a wall.” You admitted, coaxing a raucous outburst of laughter from Taggie, relishing as you shook your head in embarrassment. Rupert was most definitely not too pleased to see his prize possession crumpled in his driveway.

Taggie sighed shakily, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye with her sleeve. Resting her head against her pillow, Taggie asked in a gentle whisper, “What’s your deepest, darkest secret?” The breath caught forcibly in your throat, your cheeks flushing furiously. “Well… Before you, I’ve never had a friend. My Dad has always been all I’ve ever had. I haven’t seen my Mum since I was a baby, way too early for me to remember. I never clicked properly with anyone at school, and as soon as I finished I was just stuck at Penscombe. Without Daddy, I don’t know what I’d do.” You sniffled, reminiscing the nights that you spent sobbing into Rupert’s shoulder, the nights you spent drinking in Bar Sinister with just him, the solitary Christmas’ you both spent at Penscombe Court. Taggie felt hopelessly sad at your confession, burying her face into your shoulder in a futile effort to mask her melancholy.

“What about you?” You asked, stroking her locks of copper. Taggie’s soft features hardened, Rupert haunting her thoughts. “I don’t think… I don’t think anyone will ever love me. Everybody treats me like a child, they think I’m stupid. The only person that I thought loved me was Rafe, and he abandoned me. And the only person that I could ever live… I can’t have.” She whispered morosely. Without thinking, you flung your arms around Taggie, pulling her tight to your body in an embrace that she so desperately needed. “I love you, Tag. And I’ll always be here for you.”

“You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing.” - Charlotte’s Web, E.B White

[dearemma]

[barkovsasha]

LIZZIE VEREKER and FREDDIE JONES Rivals S01E05

[henley-reeves]

Whatever happens, there are always David Tennant characters screaming, crying, throwing up.