Author's Note: HAPPY HALLOWEENNNNN! I am releasing all the fics I never got time to finish/post this week as my big Kinktober finale, I hope you enjoy. Be safe always <3 This is a request from one of my BESTIES @nanamisrighthand <3 I LOVE INO AND I LOVE YOU
Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, face fucking, rough sex, light punishment, just the usual smuttyness
The movie flickered on the screen, painting the room in hazy flashes of light as you and Ino sat together on the couch, curled up against each other.
You’d chosen a horror movie for the night, one filled with suspense and masked killers—since it was the night before Halloween—but your attention had wandered from the screen about halfway through.
Sitting there with him, feeling the warmth of his arm around your shoulders, you couldn’t resist the itch for a bit of playful trouble.
Ino was fully absorbed in the movie, eyes flicking between scenes, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against your arm.
That subtle focus only made you want to grab his attention more, to see that subtle shift in him whenever you pushed just the right buttons.
You looked over to the end of the couch where his Ghostface mask from his costume rested, its empty, hollow eyes staring back at you.
With a sly smirk, you leaned forward, snagging it and slipping it over your head.
You knew he’d notice in seconds—the mask’s eerie, exaggerated grin against your face, your body language shifting to play up the role.
It only took a second. His eyes shifted, glancing at you before rolling, clearly unimpressed.
He chuckled softly, a little dismissive. “Y/n, what are you doing?”
“Oh, nothing,” you hummed, leaning back, crossing your legs as you stared him down through the mask.
“Thought maybe I’d get into character, you know?” You tilted your head, tracing your fingers along the mask’s mouth in a way that was anything but innocent.
“Nice try, but it’s not working on me,” he muttered, shifting in his seat and attempting to keep his eyes trained on the screen.
But you noticed the way his jaw clenched, his fingers twitching slightly against his thigh as you ran your hands down your chest, teasing him with slow, deliberate movements.
You leaned in, murmuring, “Not working on you? Really?”
You were inches from his face now, close enough for him to feel the breath beneath the mask, the edges of it grazing his skin.
Ino scoffed, adjusting himself on the couch and keeping his eyes forward, though the tension in his body was unmistakable.
“You’re just bored,” he said, though his voice was a little tighter than before, fingers gripping the edge of the couch cushion.
But you could see that look in his eye—the glint of intrigue he couldn’t fully shake, the slow unravelling of his calm facade.
Sensing his resolve waver, you pushed further.
You shifted closer, sliding one knee over his thigh and settling onto his lap, the movement slow, deliberate, as you let your weight sink into him.
His eyes flicked down, watching you with a tense gaze, trying to keep his cool as you settled right against him, your warmth pressing over the unmistakable hardness beneath his jeans.
You placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning in until your breath ghosted over his neck, feeling him tense as your fingers trailed lightly over his collarbone, tracing the line of his jaw with a soft, teasing touch.
Ino’s hands hovered at your hips, twitching as if fighting the urge to pull you down harder.
You shifted forward, the friction unmistakable, and he let out a low, restrained breath, eyes narrowing as you ground down just enough to let him feel the heat of you through the thin layers separating you.
"Still not working on you?” You murmured, letting the words trail off, your lips brushing just over his ear.
You rocked against him a little harder, feeling the delicious press of him against you, his control hanging by a thread as you moved slowly, torturously, in his lap.
Ino’s jaw clenched, his fingers digging into the edge of the couch, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a thrill down your spine.
For a second, you could see the tension cracking, his hands moving as though he was about to grab you—but he forced himself still, holding onto that last shred of restraint even as you continued to roll your hips, feeling him grow harder beneath you with each teasing grind.
Finally, you leaned back, tilting your head as you traced your fingers over his chest and down, glancing back up with a challenging look.
His gaze darkened, his breathing coming faster now, every muscle in his body taut with a restrained hunger that was only waiting to snap.
And then it did.
In one swift motion, he grabbed the mask from you, slipping it over his own head, his voice dropping to a dangerously low murmur.
"You wanted to play, right? Let’s see if you’re ready for this.”
With that, he lifted you off of him, standing you up right in front of him. His head tilted slightly as he looked it you in a moment of eerie silence.
“Run.” Ino said in a sharp whisper. And you gladly did as he said.
With one last glance at his imposing figure, clad in the mask with that dark, hungry look gleaming through the eye holes, you spun around, a rush of adrenaline kicking in as you dashed down the hallway.
You could hear his steady, ominous footsteps trailing you, never too fast but close enough that you felt the constant pull of his presence.
Heart racing, you made it to the end of the hallway, looking over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him moving with terrifying precision, his gaze locked on you with an intensity that made you shiver.
A grin broke across your face as you darted into the next room, breathless with excitement.
But no sooner had you turned the corner than you felt a strong hand wrap around your wrist, yanking you back against his chest.
“Not so bold now, are you?” He murmured, voice muffled but rough beneath the mask, his grip firm and unyielding as he spun you to face him, pressing you back against the wall.
His hand slid down to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him as his free hand traced your jaw, tilting your head back so he could look down at you through the mask’s hollow eyes.
You swallowed, and your breath caught in your throat as you stared up at him, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, anticipation tightening every inch of your body.
He took a moment, his gaze lingering over you, savouring the effect he had on you before he reached down, his fingers deftly lifting your shirt up, over your head, tossing it aside with a casual precision that made your pulse race even harder.
"Ino…” You whispered, trying to read his expression beneath the mask, but it only made him more unreadable, his touch firmer as he leaned in, his mouth hovering over your ear.
“You want to tease me?” He growled, his grip firm around your waist, pulling back just enough to catch your gaze, a wicked glint in his eyes.
"On your knees," he commanded, his tone low and husky, leaving no room for argument.
The intensity in his voice sent a fresh wave of anticipation through you as you slowly lowered yourself, your lips parted slightly as you looked up at him, every nerve heightened as you knelt before him, looking up, waiting.
Ino took in the sight, his hand reaching out to trace a thumb over your pretty lips, eyes dark with desire.
"Look at me. I want to see that pretty face of yours while I fuck it." His words made your pulse race, a thrill of excitement running through you as his thumb slipped past your lips, pressing down on your tongue, urging you to open wider.
He slid himself between your lips, the tip grazing against your tongue, and you held his gaze, feeling the weight of his intense focus as he began to move.
Each stroke was slow and deliberate at first, giving him a chance to savour every inch disappearing into the warmth of your mouth.
His hand rested at the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair, gently guiding you to take him deeper, a satisfied hum escaping his lips as he watched you, enthralled by the way you looked up at him, eyes filled with lust.
"That’s it," he murmured, voice darkening with each slow thrust, "Take every inch."
His grip tightened in your hair, his rhythm picking up, each movement sending a jolt through you as he held you in place, his gaze never leaving yours.
Your hands gripped his thighs, grounding yourself as he moved, each thrust steady and powerful, the mask casting an eerie shadow over his face as he took in every expression you made, every desperate gasp and moan muffled against him.
His breathing grew heavier, his hand guiding you as he sank deeper, pushing himself to the back of your throat with a force that had you gasping, cheeks hollowing as you worked to keep up with his pace.
"You look so good like this," he rasped, his voice rough with pleasure, a primal satisfaction lighting up his eyes as he took in every reaction, every desperate gasp, and muffled moan you let out as you tried not to gag.
Each thrust was powerful, relentless, his need pouring into each movement as he held you right where he wanted, your submission driving him to the edge.
He pulled back for a moment, letting you catch your breath, but only long enough to lift you to your feet, spinning you around and pressing you forward, bending you over as he pulled your hips back against him.
His hands moved over your bare skin, lingering on every curve, every inch he could claim.
“Thought you could get away with that teasing?” His voice was low, ragged with need as he positioned himself behind you, his body pressing you against the wall as he filled you with one hard, consuming thrust that had you gasping, clutching at the wall to steady yourself.
Each thrust was deep, merciless, leaving you breathless and wanting more.
His fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as he filled you, his pace unrelenting, driving you to the edge until you were gasping, gripping the wall for support as he whispered against your ear.
“Think I’d let you get off so easy?” he murmured, barely letting you breathe as his fingers toyed with you, his grip steady, keeping you right where he wanted.
Each thrust was calculated, dragging you to the edge before he’d still, savoring the frustration that colored your gasps and quiet pleas.
You tried to push back against him, to meet his rhythm, but his hands held firm, keeping you there on the brink, trembling under his control, body aching with the need to be taken past the breaking point.
With each relentless thrust, he kept you on the edge, his movements precise, leaving you breathless and desperate. He paused just long enough to feel the quiver in your thighs, the slight whimper escaping your lips as you hovered at that unbearable threshold.
“Not yet,” he whispered, his voice firm but laced with that undeniable hunger.
His hand slid down, fingers brushing against you, only to pull away just as your hips arched in silent pleading.
Every time you thought he’d finally let you tumble over, he held back, savoring the way your body tensed and trembled under his grip.
When he finally leaned down, pressing the weight of his body into you as he whispered against your ear, his voice was a low, wicked murmur.
“You wanted to tease, didn’t you?” He pressed himself deeper, filling you, each thrust now unrestrained, relentless, his rhythm pushing you right to the point of shattering.
The sound of his breathing filled the space, rough and uneven as he watched you, his own restraint beginning to falter.
You felt his grip on your hips tighten, his rhythm breaking, as he finally drove you both over the edge, sending you spiralling together in a rush of tension finally released.
And from that moment forward, you and Ino watched the entire Scream series every Halloween.
