I've wanted to start a new series of one-shots, loosely inspired by some of my favorite songs. Each one-shot will be a new song. Some will be cannon, others will be AU. I always accept prompts or suggestions, if you have a song, AU, or concept you think would be great. And I love reviews. This one is based off of Lukas Graham's "Seven Years". Thanks for reading!

Seven Years: A Clarke and Lexa Story

"I don't really feel like going, Raven," Clarke said, loudly and pointedly in her friend's direction. "I just had a very long work dinner. I'm tired."

"Too bad. You look cute; you're going."

"Where are you even taking me?"

"We're just going to the pub," Raven said, grabbing at Clarke's wrist and pulling her through the crowded streets of downtown Providence, "But there is a live band. I heard they're good."

"Whatever," Clarke relented, "Only because we are already out."

"Yep," Raven said, nodding her head, "Maybe you'll have fun."

"Sure."

"And by fun, I mean orgasms."

"I don't need orgasms."

"Who doesn't need orgasms?"

"Me," Clarke concluded as she took her I.D. back from the bouncer and stepped into the dimly lit pub. The band had already started playing and people stood in groups around the bar and tables, cups in hands, hips slightly swaying, knees barely bending to the beat of the guitar and drums.

Raven handed her a beer before they made their way closer to the stage, both a little intrigued by the lead singer.

"She's hot," Raven added, playfully putting her beer to her cheek in mock flush.

"She has nice eyes," Clarke added.

"Her name's Lexa."

"Okay."

"You should talk to her when the set ends."

"Why"

"She's hot."

"You should talk to her."

"I'm looking for something a little bit different tonight."

"Something with a penis?"

"Yes," Raven said, pointing to a group of men across the room, "Like that."

"Go talk. I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Make smart choices." Clarke remarked, pushing Raven away with a smile.

Clarke watched as Lexa finished up her set, said goodbye to the crowd, and headed off stage. As the standard music kicked through the speakers Clarke looked around for Raven. Noticing she was laughing and having fun with one of the guys, Clarke decided to head to the bar. Noticing Lexa come back on stage to pack up, Clarke held up her old beer bottle and then two fingers to the bartender. Putting the money on the sticky bar, Clarke grabbed the two bottle necks and headed to the makeshift stage.

"Thought you might want this?" Clarke said to Lexa, holding out one of the beers. Lexa turned around from the equipment, seeing a pretty blonde.

"Thanks," she said reaching for the beer.

"Your welcome. I liked your voice."

"Ah, a regular groupie, then?"

"If you have a poster, I'll hang it next to Justin, kiss it at night."

"Too bad then. No poster." Lexa added with a flirty smile around the brim of her bottle.

"Maybe just an autograph, I guess," Clarke conceded. Lexa smiled back.

"I'm Lexa. Lexa Woods."

"As a groupie, you'd think I'd know that, huh?"

"I'll forgive you, if you tell me your name."

"Oh," Clarke giggled, transferring the bottle out of her dominate hand, extending it to Lexa, "Clarke. Clarke Griffin."

"Hi, Clarke."

"Hi, Lexa."

"Do you make it a habit of bringing beer to the entertainment?"

"Only the pretty ones."

"Well, I appreciate it. I always get a little hot after a performance."

"Yeah, you were hot," Clarke let out, before realizing what she said, roughly hitting her forehead with the back of her hand in embarrassment. Lexa only giggled, before Clarke noticed a look of contemplation cross her face. Before Clarke knew it, Lexa leaned in and gave her a tender kiss, letting her lips rest at first so Clarke had time to back away if she wanted. But, god, she didn't want to. She wanted to know how these lips felt on every inch of her skin. Clarke pushed hard against Lexa's lips, kissing her forcefully.

"You wanna?" Lexa asked, arching her eyebrows in question. Clarke only nodded, as Lexa dragged her off the stage.

Lexa pulled Clarke into the bathroom, locking the door behind them. She pushed her hands up the back of Clarke's smooth thighs, bunching her skirt as she moved higher, until coming to rest on her butt. Lexa continued to crash against Clarke's lips until she felt she needed to breathe. She moved her now languid kisses to Clarke's neck, feeling her heavy breath beneath the taut skin.

"I want to fuck you." Lexa let out and felt Clarke giggle.

"I already figured that one out."

"I want to fuck you in this pretty skirt."

"Yeah?" Clarke gasped, pushing her hips into Lexa's, grabbing fistfuls of her hair, pulling snugly. "I want you so much."

"Can I touch you?"

Clarke only nodded, not trusting her voice, as she pulled Lexa into her collarbone, begging her to kiss her there. Lexa moved her kisses along the skin and bones showing above Clarke's blouse, before roughly grabbing at her chest, pushing and pulling the fabric of the shirt along Clarke's hardened nipples.

"Lexa," Clarke let out, moving her hands up Lexa's strong arms, grasping and caressing at skin, "fuck." Her stomach was sinking at the touch of Lexa's hands, sinking deep into her. Her hips ached to crash into Lexa's and did so on their own accord. Lexa groaned at the contact, at the fabric that pushed against her core and pushed her hand into Clarke's skirt, unsettling the tucked blouse in the process. The skirt's band and Clarke's tensing stomach pushed against her arm deliciously, as her fingers curled through slick heat. Clarke choked out a strangled breath at the first touch, her core thrusting hard into Lexa's hand.

"You feel so good," Lexa let out, her fingers exploring, her hips shuddering, aching to be touched as she touched Clarke. Clarke reached a hand out to unbutton Lexa's jeans, unzipping but not bothering to pull down. She slid her fingers through Lexa, collecting wetness and dragging it to her clit, working in small circles. Lexa shuddered and rocked against her hand. She slid her forehead against Clarke's. "I like that" she whispered shakily.

"Yeah?" Clarke asked, repeating her actions. "You're so wet."

"Mmm," Lexa grumbled, rocking her hips into Clarke's hand, still letting her fingers travel and discover Clarke, listening to the hitches and whimpers that told her Clarke like a particular action. They were determined to make each other ache in the most excruciatingly delicious of ways, hips and legs and shoulders and hands and lips and fingers, crashing and pushing against each other until they're eyebrows were scrunched with the ebb and flow of tension.

"I want to look into your eyes," Clarke gasped, gulping for air as Lexa rocked, and rocked, against her. It was way more intimate than this moment deserved, Lexa thought, but the way Clarke's breathing sped and shallowed as her eyes opened, did something to her; the way Clarke held her gaze, did something to her. Lexa let out a tiny, gasp, sucking as much air into her lungs, before she stiffened, back arched, and felt her stomach release the knot it's worked itself into in the most gratifying free fall. As Lexa let herself go, Clarke felt herself give in to the long fingers working lazily through her, felt herself buckle under the weight of the pleasure, gasping out and gulping for air. Clarke kissed Lexa's bowed neck slowly, collecting the few drops of sweat that rolled, her fingers made the lightest of circles along Lexa, barely touching but keeping her grounded. They were serene and calm in the moment of recollecting. After several moments Lexa opened her eyes, glazed over, but happy, and smiled a small smile at Clarke. Clarke smiled back and pulled Lexa in for a kiss, her hands holding her in place by her neck.

"You need to go again," Lexa giggled after Clarke released her lip. "Can I taste you?"

"God, yes," Clarke let out as Lexa dropped to her knees, pushing Clarkes skirt up, over her hips and pulling her panties down. Clarke's breaths felt heavy as she felt Lexa's face against her, her lips and her nose, and her fingers and her breaths working her so very close to edge. She came with an embarrassing groan, pushing herself into Lexa. Lexa never slowed, shoving her to the brink again.

"You just fucked me in the middle of the bathroom, Lexa Woods."

"In your pretty, little skirt," Lexa added using the back of her hand to wipe her mouth.

"I liked it."

"Mmhm, me too."

"Do you do this for all you fans?"

"Only the pretty ones."

"Can I get your number?" Clarke asked as Lexa pulled her skirt back down, pressing it flat with her hands. Clarke smiled at the actions as Lexa continued to help, buttoning her blouse and tucking it back in.

"I suppose you've earned it," Lexa relented, upset that there were no more clothes to help Clarke back into, the action somehow making her feel safe and warm. She handed Clarke her phone, and took Clarke's inputting her number. When they were done, Clarke gave Lexa a chaste but sweet kiss. Lexa sighed into it, not expecting this display of affection now.

"I'll text you," Clarke said with one more kiss as she exited the bathroom with a sheepish grin and shrug for the people waiting in line.

"You had fun?" Raven asked the next morning as she curled into the back of the couch, her hair pulled atop her head, her shirt ridden up and sweaty. She had been too drunk to question Clarke last night, a fact Clarke was immeasurably thankful for. She hadn't wanted to share Lexa quite that soon; hadn't wanted to break what was only Lexa's and Clarke's at that time.

"Three times."

"Told you" Raven said into the fabric of the couch, "She had nice boobs."

"I know."

"She sang pretty."

"Yep."

"Are you going to see her again, groupie?"

"Maybe. She gave me her number."

"Cool," Raven mumbled before sinking back into the couch, quickly giving back into sleep.

Clarke spent the day debating whether or not to text Lexa, but she couldn't get her out of her head. Clarke finally gave in and texted Lexa that evening.

Clarke: I had a really great time listening to you sing, and after. ;) Maybe you can sing for me again sometime.

Lexa: Maybe we can do the after part again.

Clarke: I'd rather see your body in a different place.

Lexa:?

Clarke: Like in the Museum of Science, on Thursday night.

Lexa: Are you asking me on a date?

Clarke: Yeah. I thought I did it pretty smoothly, don't you think?

Lexa: It was a little smooth.

Clarke: Is that a yes?

Lexa: Yes. But mostly because I've always wanted to go there and only partly because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.

Clarke: You're going to make me blush.

Lexa: Okay, good night.

Clarke laughed at that, imagining Lexa throwing her phone down in embarrassment and burying her head in her pillow. She couldn't wait to see Lexa again.

Clarke: See you Thursday.

Lexa: See you Thursday, Clarke.

Their date at the museum had gone well. Clarke dragged Lexa through her favorite exhibits, but she had saved the best for last; the butterfly garden. Clarke had been enamored with timid Lexa as she slowly stepped into the room, the humidity surrounding them and pulling them together. Lexa kept looking at the moths that buzzed around them, her head jerking left and jerking right.

"Stay still," Clarke said, holding Lexa's hands in her own, looking into her eyes. Clarke smiled as Lexa tried hard to stay still for Clarke.

"You can breathe," Clarke amended. As Lexa finally relaxed, smiling at Clarke, several large butterflies landed on their connected arms.

"Oh," Lexa let out in a little, happy sigh. She stayed unbelievably still as the butterfly rested, and took off. More joined it's place and left too. She smiled at each one as though welcoming it and Clarke swore her heart just about thumped out of her chest at seeing Lexa like this. They stayed facing each other, hands intertwined, butterflies coming and going, for a while. Clarke finally dragged Lexa out, with a promise to come back soon.

They had gone to dinner where Lexa confided she had never felt more gentle than in that garden, that she had almost felt she could never be that gentle and Clarke had confided that it took all her courage to walk over to Lexa, that she almost felt she could never be that brave. Lexa walked her home that night, kissing her by the door with a promise to take her out soon.

On the third date Lexa took Clarke to an ice cream tasting, where they fed each other spoonfuls of new flavors. Lexa loved when Clarke's face lit up, moaning and licking her lips, saying: that's the one, that's the new bestseller. She loved it even more when Clarke, scrunched her nose and gave a small apologetic grin: not that one, definitely, not that one.

On the fifth date, Clarke took Lexa for a picnic by the lake, relishing in the way Lexa's hair looked fanned out against the red of the blanket, feeding her apple slices and peanut butter. Lexa felt more relaxed with Clarke than she ever had in her life, felt more at home. She was loving being with Clarke, had even loved it when the rain came pouring down, plastering blonde hair against Clarke's smiling face. Clarke dragged Lexa back to her apartment, pulling her into the bedroom. As Clarke searched for new clothes, Lexa roamed the room, running her fingers over a book on Clarke's bedside table.

" 'Broken Peony's', huh?" Lexa asked, naming the book.

"I know that's fiction, but I swear it's like that the author's heart all over those pages. Like he just bled right onto the pages," Clarke said as she crossed her arm, griping he edges of her shirt and pulling it over her head.

"More like she barfed all over them," Lexa softly mumbled, taking a deep, dragging breath and running her fingers over the cover of the novel.

"What?" Clarke asked, as she searched in her drawers for a matching shirt.

"Oh, nothing," Lexa said turning to look at Clarke, letting out a shuddered breath at the sight.

"Sorry, I hope that wasn't a weird thing to say," Clarke mumbled, a fresh shirt hanging in her hand.

"No, I like that you like reading," Lexa confided, trying but failing to tear her eyes away from Clarke, her jeans slung low on her hips, her toned stomach on display, her slender shoulders outfitted with a black strap. "But, you better put that on if you want to make it to dinner." Lexa pointed at the shirt, still clutched in Clarke's hands.

"Okay," Clarke let out with a little laugh her arms stretching up to pull the shirt over her head. Lexa nodded, gulping, watching as the black lace and Clarke's breast were concealed within the shirt. She handed Lexa some dry clothes of her own and waited for her to put them on.

"Let's go," Clarke said, grabbing Lexa's hand and pulling her out the door, "Keep staring though. I like it."

"You got it"

On the seventh date, Clarke brought pizza and beer over to Lexa's apartment. She was still in her work scrubs and asked to borrow some of Lexa's pajamas. Pulling open drawers Clarke stumbled upon a picture of Lexa. Lexa with a beautiful woman, happy and smiling. Clarke felt her stomach drop out, felt her world halt to a stop. She felt threatened and she felt scared, but she owed Lexa the benefit of the doubt. She placed the picture in the drawer, but not before Lexa saw.

"Wait, Clarke. Let me explain," Lexa reached out to Clarke, begging her to listen.

"It's okay," Clarke let out, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek, "We never agreed to be exclusive."

"I," Lexa let out falling to the bed, her hands in her lap, "I was exclusive. I am exclusive."

"Yeah?" Clarke prompted, sitting next to Lexa but not quite touching.

"She was my girlfriend."

"Whose picture is still in your drawer?"

"I want to remember her?"

"Oh," Clarke let out dejectedly, moving to stand from the edge of the bed.

"No, wait," Lexa begged, reaching her hand out to Clarke's wrist, "She… I grew up with her and, and she died"

"Oh, Lexa" Clarke sighed, falling back into Lexa's arms, "I'm sorry."

"Her name was Costia."

"Do you want to tell me about her?"

Lexa just nodded, bringing them back to the edge of the bed, where they sat thighs and shoulders touching. Clarke moved Lexa's hair back behind her ear, kissing her on the cheek, telling her to say whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

"I wasn't a happy kid. I wasn't a friendly kid. I had a home and I had food; but my parents weren't really there and I sucked at taking care of myself. Once I was seven years old, my mother said: 'Go make yourself some friends or you'll be lonely.' But, I was already lonely, I was seven and alone. Costia was different though. I didn't have to be anything; I didn't have to say anything and she still liked me. She still knew me," Lexa gave Clarke a barely there smile, "Kind of like you." Clarke grabbed Lexa's warm hand, squeezing it, telling her it was okay to talk about Costia.

"It was a big, big world, but we thought we were bigger; by eleven smoking herb and drinking burning liquor. God, we had fun, but we got ourselves into horrible situations with horrible people; people who took advantage and hurt us, and knew we were scared kids and didn't care. But, Costia, she didn't want to stop. And me, well, I didn't want to stop being with her, so I let it happen. We grew and we were in more dangerous situations and we thought we could handle ourselves, but god were we wrong."

"And then," Lexa let out with a shuddered breath.

"And then she tried something harder and overdosed," Clarke filled in.

"How?" Lexa asked, shocked, eyes wide, pushing herself away from Clarke, but Clarke just pulled her closer.

"Broken Peonies, though I just put it together." Clarke told her. Lexa laughed, she should have known she would figure it out.

"What a fucking coincidence that was, huh?"

"Not a lot of people caress novels that aren't theirs."

"I didn't think you were looking."

"Plus, Alexander Grove," Clarke said, addressing Lexa by the penname on the novel, "You are not that clever."

"Do you know what peonies mean?"

"No."

"They mean 'healing'. She was healed me and she broke me," Clarke just nodded, she didn't know what to say, so she just pulled Lexa closer into her, "So, I started writing songs, I started writing stories."

"And their beautiful."

"Thanks."

"Do you think, that, me and you could try? I didn't grow up like you; I was privileged, I know. I'm from a different world then you, you and Costia, but," Clarke said with more confidence than she really had, "But, I really like you." Clarke felt small, as though, somehow she was less than Costia, less than what Lexa deserved because she didn't share that part of her. Clarke wasn't a latchkey kid. She never worried for her safety walking home from school; her neighborhood was clean and bright and men never shouted from windows and stoops. Her school was well-funded and free of metal detector entrances. She hadn't trying alcohol until she went to college; at eleven she was still playing with baby dolls. She shouldn't feel sorry for her childhood, she knew, but it just seemed to Clarke that she had something to make up for; as though her own childhood innocence, her blissful upbringing had robbed Lexa of hers, as though it were one or the other and Clarke had usurped it, cruelly.

"Clarke," Lexa sighed, her hand reaching out for Clarke's before she rested it tissue paper light on Clarke's scrunched fist, "You're nothing like Costia. You're not Costia. You're you and maybe you came from a different world, but that's what made you, well, you. And now, we're here in this world, where those old ones don't really matter much."

"Yeah?" Clarke let out, so much hope in her voice, that the words rose and floated amongst them.

"Yeah." Lexa pushed Clarke's hand flat, silently asking her to release whatever she was feeling, and let them have this moment. "And, I really want to try this, too."

Clarke's smile overtook her face as she let out a relieved giggle, crawling over, straddling Lexa's lap. She kissed her once on the cheek, then moved to attack the corner of her mouth.

"I'm so happy," Clarke said, leaning their foreheads together, her head dipped to catch Lexa's mouth. She pushed Lexa flat on her back hovering over her, hair falling like a curtain, "Can I show you how happy?"

Lexa only nodded, letting Clarke do whatever she wanted to her.