Author's Note: A little interlude/break in between chapters for my Pennywise fan-fic. This one is mostly for writing practice and because I could not get my loveable Clown out of my head. Yes, I have an illness. I am well aware of my obsession. Please don't judge. ;P This is more along the lines of a self insert piece. I had to get myself in there at least once, right?

I do not own anything related to Stephen King's ITdom, nor; sadly, do I own Pennywise (oh how I wish I did...) Below is also my own personal opinion on the character, the miniseries, the book as well as the movie. I enjoyed all three but favor the book and the movie the most. Enjoy!

Theme Song: Marilyn Manson - Kill4Me

1

Amanda groped out blindly through the darkness in an attempt to silence the shrill alarm she had set on her cell phone the night previous. Dainty fingers, tipped with sharp stiletto nails painted black wrapped around the slim device she always placed on the table beside the queen sized bed. She groaned inwardly at the harsh light that cut through the shadows like a hot knife through butter. When her chocolate brown eyes latched onto the time, her body stiffened. It was only midnight. She didn't remember setting her alarm for that time. She swore she had set it for 3am. With a faint snarl and a curse or two, she none-too-gently, set the phone back down on the table. Three hours of sleep was at least better than none at all. Raking a hand through dyed jet black hair that fell in loose waves down to the small of her back, she gave a sigh of resignation before pulling herself out of the comfort of the black sheets. She supposed it was time to get back to work.

She padded barefoot down the stairs of the small two bedroom house she was currently renting. It was quiet enough here in Derry Maine, a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the city life she had all too willingly left back in Rhode Island. She hated the city, always had. She hated the smell, the chaos and most of all, the people. Working nearly twenty years serving the public, she had grown almost numb to social interactions, merely going through the motions. Here in solitude, she could work in peace on both her book and the current script she had been drafted to finish for some locally filmed television show. She still had to pay the bills, after-all.

The tile floor of the kitchen was almost shockingly cold beneath her feet as she trudged to the coffee pot sitting on the small counter. Without putting a light on, Amanda hit the start button. She had prepped it the night before just in case she had awoken before the automatic start began the coffee brewing cycle. She moved to the table where she kept her small container of vitamins and popped them all into her mouth at once, dry swallowing the concoction in one go. It was eerily silent. Almost oppressively so. It surprised her just how quickly she felt a sense of unease envelope her. Shrugging it off as simply her nerves, she turned back to the counter and reached up into the cupboard for her favorite mug. A black ceramic affair with creepy red lettering that simple read IT. She had purchased the mug on some online store after she had seen the movie adaptation for the second time and had become nearly obsessed with Skasgards portrayal of the chaotic clown Pennywise. Though she had seen the miniseries several times growing up and had praised Tim Curry for his performance, she had always felt it was lacking something. When she had finally seen the movie, she realized in the first five minutes exactly what it had been lacking. Unpredictability. Tim Curry's version had seemed almost cartoonish in a sense and she had half expected to see him become some kind of two dimensional animation. However with Skasgards version, there was a raw animal magnetism, an unpredictability that kept you on your toes and fit with the original character in the book.

Once the gurgle of the coffee pot finished, Amanda poured a small amount of coffee creamer into the bottom of her mug, replaced it back into the fridge and added the fresh coffee. The scent of Peppermint Mocha faintly wafted up from the mug to assail her senses and she sighed a bit contentedly before taking that first heavenly sip.

A faint jingle of bells had her pausing with the mug half way down. She wrote all sorts of novels that were combinations of horror, romance and fantasy. It somehow didn't quite surprise her since she could still feel the hair on the back of her neck standing to attention coupled with the unease of being watched. Slowly and carefully, she set the mug down ontop of the table without so much as a click of the ceramic ontop of the wooden surface. She reached beneath the table to carefully unhook the wooden bat she had secured there upon moving in a month ago. Unfortunately, her fingers only found empty space.

"Where you looking for this?" Came a familiar high-pitched voice from the darkness of the corner of the kitchen. It carried with it a chill that ran down her spine and caused goosebumps to break out on the bare skin of her arms and legs.

She turned slowly towards that voice, her breath catching as her gaze locked on a nearly seven foot tall figure standing a mere foot away from her. The outline of the silhouette was just as familiar as the voice and for a moment, Amanda thought that her mind and eyes were playing tricks on her. As if the figure sensed her doubt, it moved forward a few inches, the silver moonlight filtering through the back door illuminating it's features.

It couldn't be real!

She had almost pinched herself to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Standing in her kitchen, swinging the wooden bat back and forth casually, was Pennywise. THE Pennywise. She blinked several times and shook her head faintly, but the stark white face and sinister red markings remained.

"I am as real as the air you're breathing, Amanda. I always have been." Came the Clown's reply, almost as if he had read her thoughts and knowing him, he probably had. Oh God, what else had he read from her mind? A blush began to creep up the back of her neck. Just how far could IT delve into a person's mind? Questions but no answers.

"What do you want, Pennywise?" She asked softly, giving herself points for keeping her voice calm and collected. There was no fear of him, but a strange sense of longing that pulled at her. It caused her to shift slightly, turning so that she faced the Clown more fully. She could feel his yellow eyes burning over her as he took in her slim figure, clad in hip hugging yoga shorts and a loose plain black t-shirt. A tattoo of some kind of Nordic dragon was etched at the top of her left thigh, showing in stark contrast against her pale skin.

"You called to me." He said simply, his voice sounding almost husky. He moved closer towards her, dropping the bat down by his side. He circled her slowly, tilting his head up just enough to inhale her scent. She smelled of Patchouli and something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but it certainly wasn't fear.

"I did?" She inquired, folding her arms across her stomach just beneath her chest. "And how exactly did I do that?"

Pennywise moved closer, standing merely a breath away from physical contact. With a deeper wiff of her scent, the Clown reached out and ran a fingertip lightly over the flesh of her left arm. He was rewarded with a strong spike in that secondary scent of hers that he was slowly beginning to identify. He carefully placed the bat back onto the table before answering her question.

"I could hear your dreams. You called out to me as you slept."

Embarassment stark and hot painted her face red and she was thankful that it was still too dark for him to actually see that her cheeks were tinted pink. Perhaps he could smell it on her because he was suddenly standing behind her and leaning over her right shoulder. Amanda could feel the heat of his presence against her back like a scalding fire. A powerful force that would instill fear in the bravest of people. But to her, there was no fear. Only...

Arousal..

THAT was what that other scent was. Pennywise let out a maniacal chuckle the moment he discovered the reason why she didn't fear him. She was turned on by the mere proximity of his presence. This was certainly a first. The Clown encircled her waist with one of his lengthy arms and pulled her back flush against his chest. A low guttural growl trickled past his lips and rumbled against her ear, painting her spine with fine tremors of desire.

There was something seriously wrong with her. She needed to get her head checked. How was it that a child-eating, demonic entity caused her to grow weak in the knees and it wasn't from fear!

Pennywise inhaled her scent once more, full lower lip brushing against her ear.

"Mmm. You smell of something better than feeearrr." He purred, drool cascading over his lip to drip faintly onto the bare curve of her shoulder. His lips parted and he allowed the tip of his tongue to trace along the speeding pulse that lingered beneath her flesh.

Amanda groaned, her head tilting in the opposite direction as his left hand slid up the front of her throat. His thumb brushed along the line of her jaw and pressed against it, tilting her head further to the left. The pulse jumped wildly, causing him to breathe deep again.

"How have I survived on fear alone?" He wondered in amazement, dragging the tip of his nose down along the curve of her neck and along her shoulder. His lips burned a path of molten heat along her flesh that shot straight down to her core. Her body clenched tightly like a coiled spring ready to break at the slightest pressure. As if sensing this, the Clown chuckled.

"I can only imagine what would happen if I tasted you, Amanda."

The image his words invoked. Oh dear Lord...

She felt her breath hitch painfully in her chest a split second before she felt the hand around her waist shift, dipping beneath the waistband of her shorts. Those gloved fingers sliding lower very nearly made her knees buckle.

"Why did you call out to me?" He hissed softly against the curve of her shoulder, the edges of those oddly sharp front teeth scraping erotically over the surface of her flesh. He was rewarded with a faint groan that rumbled past her lips.

"I don't know." She managed to whisper out. She felt his fingers flex, lengthening into sharp claws that dragged enticingly along the inside of her thigh.

"Liee." Pennywise whispered, nipping harder at her skin. She felt blood well to the surface and trickly down over her collarbone, pooling between her breasts. Her nipples had hardened into taunt peaks that were beginning to hurt everytime they brushed against the material of her shirt.

"You do not fear me." He made it a statement rather than a question.

"No."

"Good. The scent of your arousal is more appealing to me than any fear I have ever tasted."

Another blush crept it's way up the back of her neck with the spoken admission of the effect the Clown had on her. Without warning, he spun her around, backing her up until her backside hit the edge of the table. He framed her face with his hands, and tilted her head back far enough so that her eyes caught his.

"The world will know that you belong to me now." He slid his hands down to her hips, easily lifting her as if she was as light as a feather and sitting her down onto the table's surface. He knelt by her legs and forced her knees apart, fingers trailing up over the inside of each thigh. He hooked those claws into the material of her shorts and pulled. There was a harsh ripping sound as the fabric gave way under his strength, shredding like tissue paper. He gave a throaty growl when the musky scent of her arousal hit his senses fully. She had worn nothing beneath them...

It took all his will and effort not to take her then. He didn't have much time and he wanted her marked as his before the night was over. Inhaling deeply, his growl mingled with her hiss of anticipated arousal as she felt his breath against her aching core. Her fingers clenched against the edge of the table.

"This will hurt." Pennywise warned just a moment before his mouth opened wide, the corners ripping back to reveal rows of razor sharp teeth. Again there was that spike in her arousal and he felt himself chuckle softly. She was a mystery to him, but one that he could not simply ignore. His tongue lashed out, swiping over the unmarked flesh of the inside of her right thigh very close to where it met her womanhood. Without warning, without a single twitch of evidence as to what he was doing, he struck, biting deeply enough into her flesh to leave the perfect imprints of his teeth. He could have easily jerked his head and either torn flesh from her, or ripped the limb off but that was not his goal. Not with her.

The blood that assailed him was rich, heady and sweet at the same time, almost reminding him of the cotton candy he had used to lure his victims in the past. The moment her blood hit his stomach, Pennywise pulled back. He used a single claw to pierce the center of that bite wound, tattooing an intricate symbol, his symbol. It was an ancient, forgotten talisman of protection as well as a symbol of binding. She would be able to summon him no matter where she was, even if it was his time for his long slumber. This was only the first step of his claiming of her. The rest would come soon enough.

Her blood painted the lower half of his face in crimson as he stood surprisingly graceful for someone of his stature. He trailed his claws lightly over her hips for a brief moment before he pulled her up and into a sitting position. What he saw on her face was not pain nor agony, but rapture. She had actually enjoyed his marking of her. A giggle, nearly childish in tone, rumbled from his lips and he used his thumb to tilt her head back so he could look into her face more clearly.

"Enjoy that, did you, Precioussss?" He taunted with his blood stained mouth so tantizingly close to hers.

"Yes." She answered honestly, her voice nothing more than a euphoric whisper.

A one sided smirk twitched at the left corner of his mouth.

"That is nothing compared to what will come later."

Another spike of her arousal caused Pennywise's nostrils to flare as he inhaled deeply.

"Mmm." Suddenly, he moved with the speed he was known for and closed the distance between them. He gripped her hips and pulled her none too gently against him so she could feel the hardness of the Clown's arousal against her naked and awaiting center.

"The timing mussst be right to make you mine, Amanda. I will claim you. This is not the last you have seen of me." He trailed a hand up along her abdomen and between her breasts to grip her jaw lightly with his fingers. "For now you must rest."

As if his words were some kind of spell, she felt her world grey around the edges as oblivion returned to claim her in a dreamless sleep.