A/N: Soooo, this was originally written as a Valentine's Day one-shot but I finished it early so I decided to post it early as well! I'd like to say it's a one-shot but, you know me, I sometimes can't help myself and write more when my mind is blocked from the rest of my stories.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games nor have I ever been haunted by an Incubus. Damnit for the former and a big hooray for the latter!

Attack of the Incubus

Valentine's Day. A scam fabricated by the chocolate companies to make people buy more of their products and increase business. It was just an excuse to get mushy and lovey dovey. Also an excuse for romance and sex. It was ridiculous, stupid even, that people believed there should be one day where every piece of affection and frilliness and softness should be funnelled into one day.

Peeta had always felt this way about the 14th of Feburary. Delly claimed it was because he was being bitter about the fact that he had never had a Valentine before, Madge couldn't agree more with him, and Katniss . . . well, Katniss had a mixed view on it, depending on what her relationship status was with Gale. This had normally led to an array of interesting debates between the four of them, most of these arguments ending with Delly closing herself off and refusing to actknowledge that she was anything but right.

This was basically the main reason why Peeta found himself alone every Feburary 14th. Maybe on some level Delly was right, he hated the occasion because he didn't know what it felt like to have a valentine, someone who would take the time to write him a card or send him flowers. Still, he wasn't going to admit this out loud because admitting that Delly was right is basically handing over bragging rights to her for 1,000 years.

But whichever way he spun it in his head, Peeta hated Valentine's Day with a great passion.

That is, until he started getting stalked by an incubus.

Okay, so he didn't immediately come to the conclusion that it was an incubus that was tormenting him (who would exactly, a nutball?), it took a couple of attacks before he actually discovered what it was that was antagonizing him. At first it just seemed like his body was sick of him being a virgin and was flooding him with endorphins to speed things along. But as time grew on, he realized it was something else.

It started off just with a rise in temperature. No matter where he was, Peeta found himself sweating his brains out. Madge found it hilarious. She'd fan him off and make jokes about being 'menopausal' and how his period was probably going to end soon which was apparently lucky for him since someone of his age didn't need to get pregnant anyhow.

Peeta didn't think much of it until one day he woke up and felt like he was roasting as usual but went to the window and realized it was snowing outside. Fucking snowing! His heating wasn't even turned on, he should be freezing his ass off! But, no, he was still unnaturally warm. Checking syptoms online, Peeta concluded that he was probably just getting a fever.

After that day, he woke up and felt normal again. He passed it off as definitely having had the fever and went back to daily life. But the day the intense heat stopped was the day he started feeling . . . things. It was like someone was constantly breathing down his neck, following him everywhere and watching his every move. Still, something like that could be chalked down to imagination, right?

It wasn't until about a week later that he was working at the bakery and glanced up at his reflection in the window and actually saw, properly saw, his hair move like someone had brushed their fingers through it. At that exact moment he actually felt nails brush across his scalp and a slight tug on his roots. But there wasn't anyone there. Peeta was definitely spooked at this point but convinced himself that the window in the bakery had been open and a breeze had moved his hair, that was all it was.

He didn't tell anyone because of the simple reason that he didn't believe in supernatural beings and came up with logical explanations for everything that happened him.

That is, until it first touched him at night.

The touches came off as a cold tingly sensation brushing various parts of his body. It would alternate every night, along his arms, up his legs, across his stomach. It was a weird feeling and had him scared shitless to go to bed every night. At least it was just small touches, he'd told himself, nothing too . . . well . . . vulgar. It was when he fell alseep in his clothes one night and woke up with his shirt shifted up to his neck and his pants unbuttoned and hanging low on his hips that he began to worry. He lay in bed, almost paralysed in fear, as he felt the hands touch him. It wasn't a voilent touch, nor was it completely gentle either, and he didn't know how to make it stop.

Since he couldn't go to anyone he knew (Madge, Delly and Katniss certainly weren't the sort of people who'd believe him if he tried to convince them he was being molested by someone he couldn't see) so Peeta found himself resorting to the one thing he had always despised. Writing his problem on a ghost site. He didn't expect to get a reply since, of course, it was very unlikely that he was experiencing anything wrong.

Almost an hour later, he had five replies. Jeez, these people really didn't waste time, did they? The first comment that wasn't a religious nut telling him to pray and exorcise the room was a member of the site and was called LuvmeH8u. She wrote:

From what you're describing it seems that you're being haunted by a-depending on your sexual oreintation-succubus or an incubus. A succubus is a female spirit who prays on straight men or lesbian women (depending on what she's after) and an incubus is a male spirit who prays on straight woman or gay men (again, depending on what he's after). These spirits are relentless when it comes to what they want and the best thing to do is resist as much as you can and don't let them seduce you. The easiest way to rid yourself of one of these demons is to pray to Jesus or exorcise yourself and your room. And, if you're not religious, well, just do what you can to forbid them of what they want. It will be difficult but you say they've been doing this to you for a great deal of time so I'd say they've probably gotten attached. God bless you and I hope you are able to rid yourself of your demons.

That didn't sound promising at all. Peeta wasn't religious at all but how was he supposed to deny a spirit he couldn't see his body? Especially when he's sleeping. He started to read other people's experiences with Incubi (he was a gay man so he guessed that this spirit was a guy, like LuvmeH8u had said) and found that their stories were very similar to his. Increased body temperature then unwanted caresses leading to stripping in their sleep, all of the stories ending the same way . . .

With either sexual assualt or rape.

Peeta swallowed hard. Oh god, that didn't sound good at all. Even as he read the stories, he could feel the Incubus' presence in the room, breathing down his neck as usual. It radiated heat and it didn't seem to like the paranormal site at all. Almost instantly, a cold wind rushed past him and the laptop hiccuped and the site shut down. He couldn't get it back and all he really knew about what was happening was the explanation he had gotten from LuvmeH8u.

Once he knew what he was dealing with, the caresses got more . . . noticable. Peeta would feel such things as a tugging on his hair, kisses to the back of his neck, hands exploring his torso, sometimes the shifting of his shirt or jacket. It was incredibly distracting and Peeta felt ridiculous swatting away something that didn't even feel like was there. He wished the damn thing had a form so he could punch the pervert in the neck. The incubus sometimes even filled his head with dirty thoughts and it felt like the spirit was trying to make him give in by actually talking dirty to him.

Eventually, the incubus did assualt him, and it was the most amazing thing Peeta had ever experienced. For an assualt anyhow . . . He had been sleeping on his stomach on the sofa in the living room when he felt the incubus touching him again with the standard caresses. Suddenly there was a great pressure on his back, pinning him into the cushions and he couldn't move at all. The spirit's hands crept under his shirt and started stimulating his nipples until they were achingly hard. Then the thing slipped its invisible hand under his pants and pushed what felt like a finger into his behind.

Peeta hadn't really known what to do but he moaned and rolled his hips back, bunching the fabric of the sofa up in his hands and letting the incubus do as it pleased. He found himself rubbing his crotch against the sofa cushions, so turned on that rational thought had gone right out the window.

Finally he had remembered what LuvmeH8u had told him and he jerked away, falling off the couch with a yelp. Deny the spirit what it wanted, that's what he had to do.

It was the night of Valentine's day when the whole thing exploded into something much more real.

Delly had gone out with her boyfriend Darius for a double date with Katniss and Gale. Even Madge-valentine hater Madge-was doing something with a partner. Peeta couldn't believe how much of a loner he was on what was supposedly the most romantic nights of the year. The incubus hadn't showed up which he had thought was strange, since it was Valentine's Day and all. Even the goddamn spirit who haunted him didn't want to be with him that night.

Did he repel people on the 14th or something? Did he exude something that made them all not want to be around him something? Why did he care anyway, since he hated Valentine's Day so much? At least Madge had been thinking of him, he thought, as he read the pity Valentine card written in her handwriting with a Guess who? written at the bottom.

All the channels on his t.v were taken up with soppy rom-coms and steamy erotic films on the adult section. He hadn't meant to flick to that part of the channel guide but his remote had fucked up and he clicked the wrong thing. Worst of all, it was one of those gay porn programmes that were unrealistic and based off stereotypes. Rolling his eyes, Peeta switched the t.v off and just sat in silence, wondering why the hell he wasn't out doing something since he got a day off tomorrow for the supposed 'holiday'.

Was Valentine's Day even a bloody holiday anyhow?

According to his parents, yes. Either that or they were just trying to find an excuse to have a day off themselves. Not that Peeta was complaining about the day off, he just didn't know what the hell he was going to do all day since his friends were very likely going to be recovering from extreme hangovers and very probably sore from fucking all night long.

It was very likely that he was going to be the only sober person his age in the entire city tomorrow morning. Maybe he could be the first person to the newsagents and avoid the lines for once? Well, that was one plus right there.

. . . .

God, he was sad.

Deciding that he had nothing better to do, Peeta went to bed. He only slept for about half an hour before he felt something that woke him up. It was like teeth nipping at his neck. It felt nice and he sort of didn't mind it, since he was still half asleep when he first felt it. Eventually it started to get annoying though and he sleepily swatted the perpetrator away, turning onto his side to face the wall.

Something tugged on his duvet, trying to pull it down off him. Peeta fisted it in his hands to hold onto it as tightly as he could and to prevent the incubus from getting it off him. Why did the spirit always come to annoy him when he was sleeping? The incubus didn't give in this time around and pulled harder, so hard that it pulled Peeta down the bed as well. He yelped and dug his hand into the mattress, using his other hand to keep ahold of the duvet.

"Oh no you don't," he growled, dragging himself back up to his pillow. As soon as he spoke, the spirit yanked his duvet like a magician yanking a tablecloth off a table full of china. It was so strong that it pulled Peeta right off the bed with it and he landed at the bottom off the bed with a thump. He groaned as pain branched up his back and he turned around onto his back to stare at the ceiling. "Who the hell are you?" he found himself asking. He didn't expect an answer, so was shocked when he got one.

"I, Peeta, am an Incubus."

The voice was deep, manly, and Peeta jerked up to sit upright with a jolt. The voice was in his head, somehow, and it was the most frightening thing he'd ever experienced. "Well . . . what do you want?"

"I thought that much was pretty obvious by now," the incubus replied. "I want you."

"Can I ask why, exactly, do you want me in particular?"

"Because you're my favourite human."

Peeta actually laughed at that. "Yes, well, you're going to have to find someone else to be your favourite because I don't put out, especially not to perverted entities who can't keep his hands to himself." Thinking that would end the whole thing going on between them, Peeta stood up and gathered his duvet into his arms.

When he turned his back, something-that strangely felt like two hands pushing him-made him trip and fall face first onto his bed. He felt the incubus looming over him again and he flipped around and sat up on his elbows to glare at the air above his bed. "You really can't take rejection, can you?"

"I think you'll find incubi don't take no for an answer."

"Yeah, I kind of figured from what I've read," Peeta answered. He felt something brush his cheek and he swatted it away angrily. "Look incubus-do you have a name?"

"Call me Cato."

"Okay then, look Cato, I'm seriously not in the mood for being assualted, or raped for that matter," Peeta said. "Please just swan off and annoy someone else. You wouldn't want me anyhow, I'm a mess below the waistband."

Cato laughed. "You most certainly are not."

Peeta laughed, the sound tinted with hysteria. "I really am," he insisted. "You don't know-" He remembered how he'd wake up with his trousers sometimes hanging off his hips or sitting below his knees. Cato laughed again and Peeta scowled. "You're a dickhead, you know that?"

"I love it when you swear," the incubus replied.

Peeta rolled his eyes. "You're disgusting."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Don't you have a physical form? Something I can actually look at without feeling like a crazy bastard?" Peeta asked. Then, as if by magic, a man blinked into existance in his room, standing at the foot of the bed with his arms folded and eyes almost completely black. Peeta inwardly cursed as realization came upon him that the incubus was actually hot. "That's much better," he said, trying not to show his attraction to the spirit on his face.

"You like my physical form," the incubus said. It was a statement, not a question.

"No," Peeta lied. "I don't." He crawled backwards until his back bumped against his headboard. "And I also don't like being constantly tormented and messed around with. On a physchological and physical level. Do you know how crazy you have made me feel recently?!"

"I'd guess pretty crazy," Cato said simply, not even sounding like he cared.

"Can't you go annoy a body builder or beach hunk or someone who's not me?" Peeta pleaded. "You seriously don't want me."

"Is that so?" the incubus replied, black eyes sparkling. "If I don't want you then why have I been following you around for months now? Breathing down your neck to make sure you're okay and looking after you to make sure you don't get the wrong idea about me?"

Peeta's mind went to the cold wind and the shutting down of the ghost site. "Erm, well, you were always behind me a lot, I guessed you were just following me around for some unbeknownst reason . . ."

Cato laughed-he seemed to do that a lot-and his perfect eyebrows lifted in amusement. "I was following you, you're right about that," he said. "But it's because I find you intoixcating, and I can't get enough of you." Out of all answers in the world, Peeta had not expected to hear that one. As if seeing this in his eyes, Cato smirked. "Don't you remember what happened on the couch?"

Fuck, did he? He couldn't get the damn encounter out of his head. Embarrassed about it, Peeta's face burned in shame and he couldn't hold eye contact with the sex demon anymore.

"You were enjoying what I was doing until you freaked out," Cato continued. "Because of that advice you read on that stupid website."

"It wasn't a stupid site, I'm trying to get rid of you," Peeta muttered.

"Sadly it is not that easy," Cato replied. "Well, sadly for you, anyhow, I'm actually quite content making you squirm." Peeta scowled at him, beginning to get annoyed with the spirit's cocky attitude. "Of course, you could just subcumb to it."

"Subcumb?" Peeta exclaimed incredulously. "Then you'd never leave!"

Cato considered this. "True," he said. "But you wouldn't want me to." His tone had dropped several octaves and Peeta gulped, glancing up at him through the hair that had fallen into his eyes. "Trust me."

"Trust you? You've got to be joking!"

"If you weren't even considering it, why are you so turned on right now?" Cato asked curiously, raising his eyebrows in question. Peeta's eyes widened in horror and he curled his knees up to his chest to hide the part of his anatomy that was easily going to prove the incubus right. What? If there was a sexy guy in your bedroom offering to fuck you, you'd be turned on too.

"As I said," Peeta said slowly, "go find a body builder or beach hunk, I'm sure they'd be glad to let you have their way with them."

In another blink of an eye, Cato had disappeared again. Peeta wanted to think that he was taking his advice and going to find someone else but something told him that wasn't the case because he could still, on some level, feel the incubus' presence in his room. He had just let his knees slide away from his chest when the spirit spoke again, his voice right beside his ear. "I don't want anyone else, I want you."

Peeta shuddered and leaned away from the incubus. "You are one overly attached ghost," he said.

"I'm not a ghost, I'm an incubus."

"There's a difference?"

"Well, yeah." Peeta felt a hand touch his thigh but when he put his hand over the exact spot, there was nothing there. "Don't bother, you can only touch me when I'm in physical form."

"How? It doesn't make sense."

Cato's fingers tickled down Peeta's jawline, turning his face to stare at the opposite wall, where he was probably sitting with his weird spiritual camoflague hiding him. "You really don't need to know," he told him. "You're supposed to sit back and enjoy it."

"That's not what the others say," Peeta replied. "You're going to get voilent, I know it. That's what you incubi do. You don't care about me, you care about getting your sick fill off my pleasure. I know how you work."

"I don't see what the problem is. You get to orgasm and I get to feed off it, why protest to that?"

"Hmm, let's see, you're a ghost who's been molesting me for the past couple of months, you're crazy, you won't leave me alone and, did I mention that you're a ghost?"

A pause.

"I'm not a ghost."

Peeta rolled his eyes. "That's all you got from that?!" he exclaimed.

"What? I'm not a ghost and am extremely insulted to thought to be so," Cato replied. "I'm just an insanely attractive incubus who wants to seduce the cute boy in front of me into letting me have sex with him. The boy, who, quite obviously, is very close to giving in because of my amazing charm."

"You're also modest, did you mention that?"

Cato chuckled. "I almost forgot that," he said. "I'm modest too."

Peeta scoffed. The hand on his thigh had began to idly rub him over his pyjama pants. Sighing he asked, "Why me? I want not a proper answer, might I add, not 'You're my favourite human'. Why?"

Both hands suddenly cupped his cheeks and Cato flickered back into his physical form, looking stunning as ever. "Because I've been watching you for a while now and you're way too perfect not to want."

"Pff, that's not a proper reason," Peeta said. "It's not even true. If you haven't noticed, I'm alone tonight and it's Valentine's Night. If I was 'too perfect not to want' then when am I on my own?"

"Because you didn't notice the barman staring at you," Cato answered.

"Excuse me?"

"Last week, a barman was staring at you, contemplating asking you out," the incubus explained. "I could hear his thoughts, he was definitely into you."

Peeta snorted. "And what was it, pray tell, that stopped him from asking me out like you claim he wanted to?" he asked.

Cato's eyes darkened and he growled, "Me." Then, without letting him respond, the spirit lurched forward and pressed his lips against Peeta's. The mortal boy made a noise of protest at the back of his throat but didn't protest. Instead he leaned forward and opened his mouth to the incubus who had been tormenting him over the months. He wasn't sure why he wasn't freaking out or pushing Cato off him but there was a small part of him that trusted the spirit not to hurt him.

Although, he may have thought that too soon as Cato forced him onto his back on the bed with great strength, muffling his yelp of surprise with a bruising kiss. Peeta wasn't suddenly so sure of letting this continue but when he tried to push the incubus away, the entity grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the mattress. While a force of some sort kept them glued there, Cato's moved away and started pushing Peeta's shirt up his torso, never having broken the kiss with him.

Peeta squirmed underneath him, trying to free his wrists while also somehow wanting whatever was happening to continue. Cato's tongue explored his mouth with great persistance, his teeth nipping at his bottom lip and sucking it between his lips. His shirt was now back at his chin-kind of the way it had been when he had woken up with his clothes undone-and Cato's palms were all over his torso.

"Cato," he gasped, jerking his face away from the spirit's to get him to listen, "what is it you do to me every night?"

Cato smirked, his amusement kind of intimidating. "I'll show you want I do," he said. "I kiss all over your face-" he did exactly this, pressing feather light kisses all over the mortal boy's face-"and I peck your lips-" His lips were soft against Peeta's as he placed a chaste kiss against them. "I push your shirt up and worship your body with my mouth and hands." He slithered down his body and kissed his stomach, sometimes nipping with his teeth and licking with his tongue. Peeta moaned, unable to help himself, and his back arched in pleasure.

Cato kissed his neck, his hands smoothing along his shoulders and sliding down to rest on his pecs. He squeezed them, his fingers finding the boy's pink nipples and pinching both. Peeta gasped, groaning in almost pain as Cato ruthlessly stimulated one of his most sensitive areas. The incubus enclosed his mouth around one of the hardened peaks, smirking truimphantly as he got the mortal to scream in ectasy when he sucked on it.

Peeta couldn't actually believe he was letting this happen. Was he so desperate that he was actually letting a perverted entity have its way with him?!

"I'd then loosen your pants," Cato continued, single handedly pulling the tie on Peeta's sleep pants and pulling them down to sit low on his hips. "And kiss your hipbones." He pressed his lips against both of his hipbones. "And skim my nose along the 'V' of your hips." When his nose lightly skimmed Peeta's hips, he squirmed uncomfortably, knowing where he was going and not sure if he was going to be able to hold onto his load much longer.

Cato pulled his underwear off and grinned at Peeta's intimacy like it was something he had been waiting for for a long time. He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and pumped slowly, watching the boy's face twist in undeniable pleasure as he stroked him and brushed his thumb along the tip. Peeta couldn't help thinking about how audible he was being, gasping and groaning like the virgin he was and not even having his fist to bite on to silence himself since his wrists were still pinned to the bed.

His first orgasm hit him in waves and he came all over himself. Peeta had thought that this meant it was over, since it had always been said you're tired after orgasming right?, but Cato just smirked at him and all of a sudden he was incredibly horny all over again.

The incubus lifted his hips and tugged him forward, lowering himself so he disappeared between Peeta's thighs. Peeta watched, slightly worried about what he was going to do, and gasped when he felt a tongue worming its way into his hole. He tensed up immediately, despite knowing that this wasn't what he was supposed to do, and Cato pulled back, peering up at him curiously.

"You have to relax," he purred, nipping at his inner thighs with his teeth. Peeta nodded mutely, laying his head back on the bed and relaxing all his muscles like instructed. His chest was heaving and his heart was pounding in a panic, unable to stop freaking out. Cato lowered himself back down again and gave the boy's hole a lick before making attempting to penetrate him with tongue again.

Peeta moaned, his wrists breaking free as his hands flew forward to fist the bed covers tightly. His hips rose off the mattress and he threw his head back, panting like a bitch in heat. Cato pushed his knee up to his chest for better access and moved his tongue around inside the boy without mercy, feeding off his moans and groans of pleasure like one might feed off a meal.

Peeta came, once again all over himself, and couldn't believe it when he got aroused again almost instantly. Cato pulled away from him, smirking when the mortal whined at him, and sat up on the bed. Peeta, who's eyes had been screwed shut, forced an eye open to stare at him questionally, asking something he could not answer.

What are you doing to me and how are you doing it?

Instead of answering, Cato pushed a finger inside of the boy, ignoring his whimper of pain and forcing in a second finger. He scissored him and searched for his g-spot, vigorously rubbing the spot once he found it. Peeta writhed on the bed, not knowing what he was doing to him but not disliking it either. He was past caring what sort of noises he was making and how he loud he was making them and let Cato finger him without a care in the world.

He felt Cato's length slide into him and the agony that entailed made him scream in pain. The incubus slapped a hand over his mouth to shush him and slowly began thrusting into him. Eventually the pain ebbed away and Peeta was moaning into Cato's hand, lifting his hips to meet every one of his thrusts. He wrapped his legs around the spirit's waist and clenched his thighs, unable to prevent himself from orgasming a third time.

His muscles coiled as he came and the tightening of his muscles around Cato's cock made the incubus finish too, his semen filling his hole to the hilt. After that Peeta felt exhausted and boneless, feeling so tired he was almost half asleep. Had he just dreamt what had happened?

As he slowly drifted off to sleep, Cato's face came into view and he smiled, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against his lips. "Night night beautiful one," his voice said in Peeta's head, "and happy Valentine's Day."


After that night, Cato practically became a part of Peeta's life. He didn't appear to him in his physical form as often, which was disappointing, but he was there every day. Peeta could always sense his presence and always murmured some form of welcome to him, even if he was in a public place.

Cato was still a mischievous incubus though and would spend a lot of his time teasing the mortal boy he had become so attached to. He'd sometimes plant dirty thoughts into his mind, or basically describe to him in vivid detail what he was going to do to him when he went to bed that night. Peeta didn't mind listening to what the entity had to say but when he spoke to loudly in his head in public places about how he was planning to make him cum so hard and so fast he'd forget where he was then he'd sometimes have to tell Cato to kindly shove off for a while until he got home.

Of course, this just made Cato all the more keen to stay.

Showering was the most difficult. Peeta had knew very well that Cato wasn't going to pass up on the opportunity of being with him while he showered and his suspicions were confirmed the first time round as the shower cubicle began to steam up from the heat of the water pounding from the nozzle. Cato would write in the steam with his finger, not appearing in the bathroom in his physical form. Even with words he sounded the same, constantly teasing Peeta and complimenting his nude form to the point that he'd blush furiously.

After particularly hard days, Peeta would pass out on the sofa with the intention of going to sleep and Cato would softly stroke his hair while he slept, sometimes having the strength to respect that he was tired and other times being unable to help himself and pulling his pants down to fuck his behind. Peeta didn't mind either way because the sex was amazing.

Peeta actually hadn't considered that he was having a relationship with an incubus until Cato had been around for a month. A small part of him was slightly creeped out while the rest of him was content with it. Cato wasn't harming him in any way. In fact, his life seemed to be better with the spirit in it.

After that . . . well . . . Peeta began to enjoy Valentine's Day much more.

A/N: I'd always wanted to do a Peetato incubus story and this is what got spat out, so I hope you liked reading it! Review with your thoughts, maybe? :)