Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4974097.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Ed_Edd_n_Eddy
  Relationship:
      Marie_Kanker/Nazz
  Character:
      Marie_Kanker, Nazz_(Ed_Edd_n_Eddy), Lee_Kanker, May_Kanker, Ed_(Ed_Edd_n
      Eddy), Edd_"Double_D", Eddy_(Ed_Edd_n_Eddy), Kevin_(Ed_Edd_n_Eddy),
      Original_Characters
  Additional Tags:
      Coming_of_Age, Prime!AU, High_School
  Series:
      Part 3 of Prime!AU
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-11 Chapters: 2/? Words: 3784
****** The Clave Committee ******
by TJBones
Summary
     Sure, she used to be a terror whenever Nazz was around when they were
     kids, but that didn't mean she didn't like Nazz. No, Marie liked
     Nazz. She liked Nazz a lot.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Princess *****
Nazz was the neighborhood angel at six years old. Her parents maintained an
upper-middle-class status and were able to afford her everything she could ever
want or need. So, she was well cared for, pampered, and proper. Everyone was
enamored by her soft crown of gold, rosy cheeks, and sweet blue eyes. They
adored her polite disposition and birdsong voice, so parents wanted their
children to be associated with her. They tripped over themselves to have their
kids invited to playdates and social gatherings. Marie's mother wasn't much
different.
Because Marie was the same age as Nazz, she insisted she get acquainted with
Peach Creek's angel. It was an attempt to inject better influence in Marie's
life so that the girl could be a bit more respectable and acceptable to
society. Unlike Nazz, Marie was no angel. She, her older sister Lee, and her
younger sister May were antithetical to the ever-angelic Nazz—almost
notoriously so. All the kids of Peach Creek were terrified of them and all the
girls despised them on top of it. There were many a button nose turned up to
the Kanker sisters and their second-hand clothes and residence at the trailer
park where all things good and proper went to die.
Still, off to Nazz's pool party Marie went. Her mother instructed that she keep
an eye on May, who insisted on tagging along. Lee smirked from the passenger's
seat of the car when they drove off. She got to sit this one out because she
didn't want to hang out with "a bunch of babies." Marie would have made a
similar case because she'd rather be at home with the dollar store paint set
she lifted last week during their weekly store run, but her mother's word was
law. That is, unless her father vetoed it. Which he didn't in this case.
Instead, he chose to sit yelling at football players chase and tackle each
other on a tiny screen with a six pack, in his underwear. Not a word was given
about the pool party when it was mentioned, just a vague grunt.
There was nothing but giggling little girls littered across the lawn and
splashing in the pool when Marie and May trudged over. They received the usual
glares and looks of disgust. Marie sneered with her fists clenched around her
towel and backpack of extra clothes, daring any of them to say a word. She made
her way to an empty corner of the lawn next to a plastic, pink flamingo. She
sat on the green, green grass and May plopped down next to her, smiling vaguely
at all the little girls having fun.
That lasted for all of two seconds. Without being prompted, May got up and
found the table where the juice and snacks were, elbowing affronted little
girls out of her way. Marie kept an eye on her as promised, but another eye on
Nazz. She was surrounded by her friends (or cult followers, if Marie was
asked), giggling by the pool. She was effectively cute in her pink and white
sailor style two-piece while Marie wore a camo top and was the only one in
board shorts.
It was nearly a whole half hour before Marie finally got enough of scowling at
the others and got up to make her way to the pool. The other girls gave her a
wide berth. May was already terrorizing a few of the smaller kids at the
shallow end, so she figured she could have a bit of fun, dunk a few heads, and
pull a few ankles under. She stood at the edge of the pool, gaging how cold it
would be, and then she suddenly felt horrifically exposed.
Laughter erupted around her in a sea of fingers pointed her way. Her hands
slapped over her junk and she scrabbled to pull her shorts back up, face
blazing hot as she looked around for the kid who'd signed their death warrant.
Instead, her eyes landed on Nazz who stood at the opposite end of the yard, one
hand covering her mouth. She looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or
shake her head in pity, so she did both.
As Marie went to grab her stuff, shouting at May that they were leaving, she
finally realized that rich parents, nice manners, and cute clothes weren't the
only difference between her and Nazz. It never really occurred to her until
then, humiliated and enraged, that she was different than the other girls.
She stood naked next to May for a while afterward before the mirror in their
shared little room, and there was the difference glaring at her for her eyes to
see. Sure, she'd noticed May's lack of dangly bits before when they shared
baths when they were younger, but it was never something so profound. Now it
was all Marie could see, and those girls had laughed at her for it. May pointed
at her reflection and asked her what it was, but she hadn't the slightest clue
herself. So, once she was sure her mother wouldn't yell at her for ruining
another social engagement, she asked about it.
Her mother snorted and resumed picking away at her tv dinner. "Oh, that. That's
your clave, hun. People like you have it to put babies in people like that Nazz
girl." Then she squared her with the evil eye and jabbed her fork in Marie's
direction. "But not any time soon, ya here? Don't need any more brats runnin'
round here."
That was pretty much the extent of Marie's sex education from that point, so it
came to a great surprise when she was nearing fourteen and woke up one morning
with her clave stiff and her underwear wet and sticky. Lee laughed at her and
said something about morning wood and her mother warned her to wash the sheets
before they dried. She watched girls like Nazz grow into soft curves and sweet
voices while she became trim and lean, voice developing a slight depth, and
there were a few hairs on her chin that she picked at every now and again. She
thought a lot about Nazz and her curves, and smile, and pretty blond hair, and
those thoughts followed her into her sleep, which resulted in a lot of soiled
underwear by morning.
Lee plucked those hairs for her and there was a weird and awkward sex-ed class
she had to take with her peers in eighth grade. She was equal parts disgusted
and intrigued about all the different body parts there were and the changes
they underwent once kids got to a certain age and was hit with a cocktail of
hormones. Hormones were why she stuck her hands down her pants a lot at home
when no one was around. Hormones were why she thought a lot about Nazz and
other pretty girls and boys when she did so. She wasn't sure if hormones were
why she sometimes punched people in the face though she would admit it was
probably why she did so more often than she used to.
These differences made Marie feel out of place among the other girls, so she
found herself hanging out with guys more often. She teased a kid named Edd
because he was cute and turned a nice shade of red when she said something
especially sleazy. She didn't get along much with Kevin because he had an alpha
male complex that clashed with her warrior woman complex. Eddy was scared of
her, which wasn't unlike most other kids, and Ed reminded her too much of May
to pick with. Her chosen bunch of friends was a few local boys who liked to
ride their bikes through the woods and play basketball beneath the scorching
sun on the heated pavement.
On one such blazing afternoon, Marie peeled off her shirt and appreciated the
cool breeze against her sweat soaked skin for all of three seconds before one
of the boys honest-to-God shrieked.
"What are you doing?" Asked another boy, bug-eyed. A quick glance around showed
that all of the boys were uncomfortable, frozen on the court like mannequins.
"I'm meltin' out here," Marie stated.
"You can't do that," said Fisher, a lanky boy with a bowl cut.
Marie sneered and the boys exchanged glances. "Wanna try that again?"
"Uh," Fisher gestured to her. "Your, uh..." He made a sweeping motion over his
chest, face red. "Come on, Marie. You're makin' this weird. Just put your shirt
back on."
"They're boobs, not bombs," Marie deadpanned. They weren't even big. They were
barely boobs as Lee liked to call them.
"Come on, Marie," said another boy and she rolled her eyes as she aggressively
tugged her shirt back on. Then she pitched the basketball over the hoop and
into the woods behind the court.
"Bitch!" Fisher yelled and she presented two middle fingers to the lot of them
in return.
"Suck my cont, Fisher!"
As she stomped home, Marie realized that she didn't entirely fit with the boys,
either. She didn't fit anywhere.
***** Committee *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Marie entered high school in BDUs, her dad's old Chuck Taylors, a leather
jacket covered in band patches and studs, and a club proposal. Ms. Rad (actual
name), was ecstatic about it as the adviser.
"I think it's perfect," she said, then she told Marie to organize a fall
showcase. "I'll find some interested girls in my classes. Make posters and find
some fellow artists." Then she rattled on about some professional artists she
knew personally. Princifemale artists, that is.
After a long summer of deliberation, Marie crafted Peach Creek High's very
first Princifemale Art Appreciation Club. The name was a bit stiff and
pretentious, but clear in its intention: a club for princifemales by
princifemales. It would be the one place that Marie found belonging for the
first time in her life.
Meetings were held in the art classroom two days of the week after school. The
other three days went to the actual Art Club. At first, it was just Marie and
three other girls from Ms. Rad's art class: Beth, Lu, and Veronica.
Beth was a big girl with bright, eclectic style, and pink hair. She kept her
cheeks rosy, lashes long, and smile bright. Her art consisted of vague
approximations of princifemale genitalia. She fancied herself a young Georgia
O’Keeffe. Ms. Rad called her art provocative, but inappropriate for school.
Beth just found better ways to hide claves in her pieces, like a signature.
Marie thought it was brilliant.
Lu was a tall girl with a buzz cut and a blank face. She rarely said much, but
her art was always startlingly loud like whatever she thought or felt shot
through her hands and onto the page or canvas to take whatever form it may.
Marie spent a lot of time staring at Lu's work, never really knowing what to
say. So she didn't say anything. Lu didn't seem to mind.
Then, there was Veronica. Where Lu barely said a word, Veronica hardly ever
shut up. She was always covered in ink because she was an aspiring comic book
artist. She always rambled on about the story she was writing, Hell's Travels.
Marie saw some pages. It was good. Even if Veronica couldn't shut her trap, her
sharp lines, bold blacks, and solid colors jumped out on the page in a way that
was more enrapturing than unnerving, and it made up for the leak in her mouth.
Together, they turned the lunch room into a gallery and opened up the fall
showcase with two pieces each. Ms. Rand also got three of her artist friends to
pitch in a piece for clout. It was held on a Saturday and most of Ms. Rad's art
students showed up. To Marie's surprise, some of the other students in their
school also ambled in, mostly for the food, but Beth had been telling her that
there was a veritable buzz about the showcase and the club in general.
"People are talking," she had said in a conspiratorial murmur.
If the turnout wasn't enough of a surprise, watching Nazz and her friends strut
into the cafeteria that evening nearly made Marie question reality. They
tittered in pretty blouses and tight jeans while eyeing the pieces with varying
levels of curiosity and judgment. Marie stood near the refreshments table
watching, arms folded while Veronica gave them a running commentary about her
Warrior Hell Queen piece. The girls didn't seem to appreciate the bloodied,
armored gray woman who stood atop a mound of her slain enemies, bladed
pitchfork thrust in the air in victory. They didn't appreciate Lu's violent
whirlwind of colors, either, and they giggled at Beth's Hidden L piece, which
was a cave with a boulder at the top of the arch and a tree perched on top of
it. Not very subtle.
When Nazz and her friends made their way to the two pieces called Princess,
Marie pushed off of the refreshments table and sauntered over. Their heads
hovered together as they eyeballed the painting of the girl with peach fuzz,
hairy pits and happy trail showing as she was caught in the act of pulling her
t-shirt off over her head. A photo of a tiara was cut out and pasted over her
head and in her hands in the second piece where she stood with her shirt at her
elbows, arms out to cover her chest, and gaze cast off the canvas at somewhere
far away.
"Kinda hot," whispered one of the girls. They all giggled and exchanged
glances.
"You the artist?" Asked a new voice and Marie turned to see a long haired
brunette standing there with a soft smile on her face. She had freckles and tan
skin and hazel eyes and plush lips and Marie felt a stirring in her pants.
"Yeah," Marie replied and the brunette gave an appreciative nod.
"They're good, the pieces."
"Thanks."
Behind her, Nazz and her friends whispered in slight disbelief. They didn't
know Marie was an artist. Not many people did until now.
"How much are they going for?" That was Nazz's smooth, honeyed voice. Marie
turned to see her staring right into her eyes and it stirred something in her
gut.
Marie shrugged and cocked a brow. "What? You buying?"
"Just wondering if you were selling." She glanced back at the pieces, then at
Marie appraisingly. "You should. Like Deonna said, they're good."
Marie looked from Nazz to the brunette—Deonna. Deonna smirked and brushed past
to stand in front of the pieces, one hand hovering over the happy trail of the
first piece. Marie felt the stirring in her pants again.
"I'll buy them," she said, "Name your price."
"Five hundred," Marie said breezily, "Each."
Some of Nazz's friends scoffed, but Deonna just shrugged and said, "Done."
That following Monday, Deonna was sitting in the art classroom after school as
a new member of the Princifemale Art Appreciation Club. She mentioned that she
was monoreproductive, and thus not prime, but she appreciated princifemale art
and was a collector of sorts. The others welcomed her with the flare and
excitement expected after a successful showcase. Deonna gave lots of praise and
constructive criticism, but she wasn't much an artist herself. She knew of
artists, though, and traded names with Ms. Rad every now and again. A lot of
the time, though, she would look at Marie with those hazel eyes and Marie would
want to kiss her.
So, one Tuesday evening after the other girls had gone home and Ms. Rad was
chatting with the drama teacher on the other side of the building, Marie
planted her lips on Deonna and they shared a chaste kiss that tasted like mint
from Marie's gum and sweet, sugary, artificial strawberry flavoring from
Deonna's favorite Now and Laters. Then, they shared a not-so-chaste kiss with
Deonna's hands in her hair and Marie's hands on her ass. Deonna climbed onto
her lap as they clumsily licked into each other's mouth, teeth clacking, and
she rolled her hips to brush their groins together. She hummed and panted at
the feel of the stiff, denim-clad bulge rubbing against her dampening underwear
beneath her skirt and Marie bit her lower lip and groaned as she rolled her
hips up into the friction, her own underwear growing sticky against her skin.
They kept going until Deonna shuddered over her and gasped, and Marie grasped
her waist tight, hips stuttering as she painted her underwear in hot spurts.
They got away with trading slow kisses between grins and giggles until they
heard Ms. Rad's footsteps marching down the hall. Quickly, they gathered their
stuff and brushed past the startled woman with twin 'See you later's that
barely suppressed their laughter.
It didn't take long before Marie was invited over to Deonna's house. Her
parents were nice, but not stupid. They required that her bedroom door stay
open while Marie was visiting, which restricted their fooling around to making
out and teasing touches. Then, on one fateful afternoon, Deonna brought Marie
over while her parents were out. They shut the door, fell onto the bed, and
made out like they were starved for it. With a grin on her face, Deonna slipped
her hand into Marie's pants and it was the first time someone else had ever
touched Marie's clave. She gave it a few tugs until it was rock hard, then
climbed down the length of Marie's body to undo her pants and pull it out
completely.
It was flushed and throbbing and Marie whimpered and nearly came when Deonna
put her mouth on it. Her tongue was hot, soft, and slippery against the length
of it, and she pressed a thumb over the slickened folds down below, causing
Marie to shiver. She used that slick to roll her fingers over the tightening
testicle that brushed against the fist of her other hand as she stroked and
sucked the head of Marie's clave into her mouth.
Marie came seconds later, choking on her moans, strung tight over Deonna's
mattress.
"Holy shit," she panted, gazing emptily at the ceiling. "I think you sucked my
brains out."
Deonna hummed and climbed back up Marie's body to kiss her deep enough that
Marie gained intimate knowledge of what she tasted like. "Too bad. I was hoping
you'd return the favor.'
Marie smirked and kneaded Deonna's ass in her grasp. "Yeah?"
Deonna grinned, took one of Marie's hands and pushed it down into her panties
where she was wet and hot. She rolled her hips against Marie's fingers and
purred, "Yeah."
"Fuck," Marie bit out, grinning as she rolled over Deonna, kissing her moans
out of her mouth. She decided to take her time getting Deonna naked first in
order to suck her pebbled nipples into her mouth and watch Deonna squirm under
her while her fingers worked slow circles through the slick mess between her
thighs. She pressed slow kisses down her body, then pushed her thighs up and
apart enough to lick a hot stripe over the soft, wet folds of flesh, her taste
bold and syrupy on her tongue.
"Yes," Deonna hissed and Marie laved over her clit, then flicked it with her
tongue before sucking it into her mouth. Deonna whined and her fingers dove
into Marie's hair to hold her there until she was chanting her name, then
calling for God.
A week later, Deonna rolled a condom over Marie's throbbing vicky at a friend's
party in their parent's bedroom, climbed onto her and impaled herself slowly to
the roll of her hips. Marie's brain seemingly malfunctioned as every nerve was
connected to the tight, wet grip on her clave. Deonna panted over her with
praise, telling Marie how good it felt, and Marie felt herself fast approaching
an orgasm at blinding speeds.
She shut her eyes as light burst behind the lids, spewing profanities as she
filled the condom in violent spurts that made her clave twitch and jerk, then
tingle with sensitivity. She barely realized that Deonna came at all and they
traded kisses until someone came stumbling into the room with a drunken 'Holy
shit, sorry'. They got dressed to the sounds of said person telling anyone in
the vicinity that 'people were fucking in there'.
For some time afterward Deonna and Marie were a thing at Peach Creek High until
they weren't.
Marie had a terrible habit of flirting with any pretty girl that had a
lingering gaze and Deonna tolerated but so much. When she caught Marie making
out with a girl neither of them knew the name of, they got into a shouting
match in which Marie insisted it was nothing and Deonna insisted that Marie
figures out what she wants.
"We're done."
Marie watched Deonna stomp away and didn't see her in the art room after school
the next day, or the next week, or any following week after that. She ended
freshman year with a bad breakup and minus a club member. She started sophomore
year with her third girlfriend and four new club members alongside Beth, Lu,
Veronica, and herself. By junior year, she had a bit of a reputation for
literally charming the pants off of girls. She even seduced one of those girl's
mom, and it was in all due respect the immaculate genes and free booze.
Her own mother tutted at her and shook her head when she shuffled through the
door of their wheeled home. Despite her efforts, Marie still grew up to be
nothing like sweet, angelic Nazz. Nazz who was now throwing parties when her
parents weren't looking, not to mention stumbling out of her boyfriend's sleek
BMW, fixing her skirt and lipstick.
Donnie's BMW was honestly all he got going for him. Kevin was the captain of
the football team and if it wasn't for him putting in a nice word, Nazz
wouldn't have given him the time of day. If Marie was asked, she'd say Nazz had
shit taste in lovers, mostly because none of them were her. Marie was the anti-
Nazz, but that didn't mean she didn't like Nazz's pink lips, sultry blue gaze,
long legs, and cute butt. It didn't mean she didn't fantasize about kissing
Nazz until she was gasping for air. Sure, she used to be a terror whenever Nazz
was around when they were kids, but that didn't mean she didn't like Nazz. No,
Marie liked Nazz. She liked Nazz a lot.
By senior year, with a small army of badass princesses backing her up and years
of bedroom practice under her belt, she was ready to prove it.
Chapter End Notes
     Again, sorry for the pace of this. TPO is difficult for me to
     control, lol. I get carried away with chasing the plot.
End Notes
     Excuse the length of this chapter. I'm trying to get used to writing
     in third person omniscient in preparation for a much bigger fic I
     have planned later on down the line. This fic will be relatively
     short, but I'm quite excited to write about Marie. I think she's
     awesome.
     Things will pick up significantly in the next chapter.
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