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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 06/10/2025

Weekly EO Prompt October 6 - October 12. #eo #eofics

021

Reposted by EO Ficlets

SAM 🥂🧭🫶 @samwrites99.bsky.social · 02/10/2025

A little @eoficletprompts.bsky.social #wed100 blurb!! For @rnrt.bsky.social bc it’s “zanetober”

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 29/09/2025

Weekly EO Prompt September 29 - October 5. #eo #eofics

“El, I should’ve said it last night…but I love you.”

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 29/09/2025

Weekly EO Prompt September 29 - October 5. #eo #eofics Prompt from @rnrt.bsky.social

“When were you going to tell me Jackson Zane got out of prison?”

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 29/09/2025

EO is back and so are we! We are coming back with two prompts for this week. (See next posts)

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 04/08/2025

We will come back weekly when the show comes back in September. For now, have a prompt! #eo #eofic “I love you. See you at home.”

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Reposted by EO Ficlets

Em @turnhamgreen.bsky.social · 19/06/2025

archiveofourown.org/works/66585340

archiveofourown.org

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Reposted by EO Ficlets

Emi ✨ @emibenson94.bsky.social · 21/05/2025

My very first #wednesday100 for this prompt #eo #eofic

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 19/05/2025

Weekly EO Prompt May 19 - May 25. #eo #eofic “You won a trip, where?”

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 14/04/2025

Weekly EO Prompt April 14 - April 20. Prompt from @nnaylime.bsky.social #eo #eofic

“I’m ready to love you in the right way.”

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Reposted by EO Ficlets

Julia @juliagulia6.bsky.social · 13/04/2025

Part 2 of the angst-fest I posted last week. (Part 1 in the comments in case you missed it!) #eo #eofic

She agreed to meet him. That was something, at least.

It’s been seven days since their argument. Their kiss. Elliot swears his lips are still swollen, tingling with the power and passion that Olivia bleeds into everything she fights against and fights for. He’s still not sure where he lands in the dichotomy, but if that was the only time he’ll ever kiss Olivia Benson, he needs to know why she did it. If it meant forgiveness or finality.

She picked a neutral place- a bar a few blocks from her apartment, and he knows why she chose it: it gives her a quick exit if she needs to run. If his words scare her off once and for all, or she’s the one issuing a final decree and needs to retreat quickly without ordering an Uber or hailing a cab.

After everything he’s learned this week, he’ll never block her exit again.

The file was waiting on his desk when he returned from their confrontation in the hallway. Jet and the others had mysteriously vanished from the squad room, and Ayanna nervously peeked at him from her office window, keeping a safe, yet watchful distance.

After all these years, he didn’t deserve kid gloves and subtlety. He wished he could admit that he was ready for whatever lay inside the manilla folder, but nothing could have prepared him for the pages of torture, the pictures of his partner in the aftermath of saving herself from the devil: her autonomy stolen, her eyes vacant, her body marred. Her soul forever tarnished and traumatized.

Forgiveness isn’t an option. He’ll carry the sin of his absence for the rest of his life, a welcomed burden that he’ll add to his many failures, the admittance that the two loves of his life suffered because of him. He didn’t know how to let go of either one of them, and he knows he’s a selfish bastard. Always has been about what he protects.

(Or fails to. At this point, he’s 0 for 2 and spiraling.)

Elliot’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he frowns, his stomach churning as he draws it in front of his face, fully expecting Olivia’s hasty cancellation.

Noah isn’t home tonight. Come to my place instead.

He swallows thickly, pondering the implication of the venue change. It could be a good thing, having this delicate conversation without an audience.

Somehow, he knows he’s fooling himself.

Olivia opens the door, and he’s already itching with want. She looks exhausted, emotionally drained, her face tinged with nervous energy and a terse smile. Elliot’s captivated by her beauty and edginess, unsure of what to do with the spark that ignited when his lips finally touched hers, nor with the devastation that has consumed his soul ever since. He wants to hold her and never let go, absorb her demons and slay them forever.

She offers him a beer as she pours herself a healthy glass of red, and for a moment everything seems normal. They do the perfunctory chit chat like a week ago never happened, but he feels the talons of anxiety clawing at them as the minutes pass. As the years passed.

He doesn’t know where to begin, but he knows where he wants it to end. It’s now or never.

“Olivia, all I thought of was you. All I ever thought of was you.”

“That’s comforting, Elliot,” she scoffs, the sarcasm thick in her throat. “It’s nice to know you were thinking of me when I was bound in the trunk of a car, or playing Russian roulette with a monster.”

Oh, fuck this.

He slams his beer down and glares at her, tears stinging his eyes, and the petulance immediately drains from her demeanor. Even in her anger, it’s asinine to assume for even a second that he wouldn’t be absolutely gutted by the news of what happened to her. He sees a flicker of guilt in her eyes- the reminder of all they’ve both lost through the time and miles apart. She softens enough to face him fully, daring to touch his forearm for emphasis.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.” She shakes her head, steadying her breath on a long exhale. “I don’t blame you for what happened.”

“Yeah, you do.” When her head snaps up to disagree, he interjects with a growl. “Because you know if I was here, there wouldn’t have been a car trunk or Russian roulette, or you gone for two whole fucking days before anyone noticed. You should blame me for all of it.”

His point lands and the truth emerges when the tears spill down her cheeks. The last thing he wants to do is make her cry, but this is a conversation four years too late, and they’re having it now.

When she finds her voice above the sobs, it’s ruinous. “If you were here, you’d be dead or rotting in a jail cell. And then what? I mean, isn’t that why you left in the first place? I was never your family, Elliot, and I would never let you sacrifice yourself for me. You have a family that needs you whole and present. I dragged you down.”

“Don’t you ever say that again, you hear me? You matter, Liv. You’ve always mattered, in the most important ways.”

She gives a mirthless chuckle. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

They linger in that for a few minutes. It’s not wrong, he’s always had a stupid way of handling his emotions, but he needs to make it right. If this is the first and last time they hash this out, it has to be complete without any misunderstandings. The simple, messy truth.

“Liv, I gotta know… Why did you kiss me?”

“Why did you leave me?” It’s a whispered rebuttal, a raise in the stakes. He realizes that she won’t show her hand until he calls her bluff. All in, or she folds.

“Because I was in love with you. Because even though I loved Kathy, I was bonded to you in a way that was earth-shattering. Because I knew then that if I saw you again, I’d want to kiss you and never stop.” He inches closer to her and laces his fingers with hers, and she lets him. Progress. “Because I’m still in love with you, and I don’t know what to do with that. Your turn.”

Olivia sniffles, staring at their joined hands. “Because I didn’t kiss you after Gitano. Or at The Swing Set. Or when I was saving your ass from animal traffickers.” Her eyes lock with his. “Or when I was walking out of hell and just wanted you.”

That breaks him. His control falters and he moves his hands up to caress her face, his touch loaded with apologies. She doesn’t back down, leans into him, nuzzles his palm and kisses his wrist as the tears finally break and spill over. She’s distraught, actively crying now, and he feels it, the fear that radiates from her in this moment. He folds her into his embrace and holds her like he’s always wanted to, without hesitation or boundaries. Tightly, fiercely, strongly and securely, he gives her the comfort she deserved and needed from him, even if it’s a decade too late.

Slowly, she relaxes, with him murmuring quiet reassurances in her ear and tracing delicate patterns along her back. It doesn’t feel like a goodbye, not anymore, but he needs confirmation, the tendrils of panic creeping into his veins.

“Olivia, what do you need? What do you want?”

Her eyes shine and she smiles- no longer terse, but brimming with affection and forgiveness. “El, I love you. I’ve always loved you. I want you.”

This time, their kiss is wondrous: a promise for a new beginning. A fresh start filled with hope and awe as their lips meander slowly and curiously.

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 07/04/2025

Weekly EO Prompt April 7 - April 13. #eofic #eo

“You really think I’d let anyone else have you.”

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Reposted by EO Ficlets

Julia @juliagulia6.bsky.social · 06/04/2025

Special thanks to @rahleeyah.bsky.social for reminding me about a time that I truly hated Elliot’s face. (Pic in comments.) #eo #eofic Part two for this pending…

$“No.” Olivia yanks her arm out of Elliot’s grasp and storms toward the exit, clocking the giant fan blades slowly rotating at the far end of the hallway. She never noticed that the damn thing worked until now, and it’s fucking mesmerizing, like she’s never seen a fan before. If she could just get past, get away, round the corner, remember why she’s mad and let the fury speed her movements, she could escape this impending confrontation. A conversation percolating for a lifetime, one they are not having in the middle of OCCB, his entire team within earshot. But when she slows a half-second to stare at the fan, he’s right behind her, his heavy boots echoing in the emptiness of their fractured friendship. The day started messy, and ended in disaster. A case loaded with similarities: a kidnapped woman by a suspect Elliot’s team has been watching for months, evidence of torture left in the wake of the taking. Ayanna called Olivia in to consult, not because of her experiences but because of her experience, as their teams worked together to examine the details and locate the victim. Everyone knew. Olivia purposely spoke to the room as if everyone knew. And now she has her answer. Elliot didn’t know. His confusion was palpable as she kept an even tone, speaking as a captain instead of a survivor, answering questions about policies and protocol, helping them to determine that as similar as it was, it didn’t fit a copycat profile. She watched as his confusion morphed into discovery, then devastation, then guilt. Four years, and he hasn’t asked anything about her life. Fuck him.$

Olivia provided her expertise, delegated responsibilities, and now she was out the door, back to the safety net of her office and squad
That damn fan.
"Liv, wait." In four strides he's caught up, effectively stepping in front of her to stop her movements, pain evident in his weathered features. She glances at him quickly and it's enough; it's the looks she's waited years for but never wanted to see.
"No. You don't get to do this. Not after everything." She tries to shoulder past but it's like trying to move a boulder, all brawn, impossibly stoic and strong. The fan blades circulate next to her, a wisp in her ears like a heartbeat, and she just wants quiet so she can think.
He's relentlessly still like a giant sequoia, and she knows he'd let her go past if she really pushed. He'd never forcibly block her exit, especially knowing what he's pieced together from the bits and pieces revealed in the briefing. Words like drugged and burned rolling off her tongue as if they'd happened to someone else in a parallel universe.
She steps sideways and his arm juts out reflexively, brushing against her waist, and god, she wants to run, but his fingers feel like lightning against her skin, and his eyes are lasering into hers full of care and concern and want. It's her kitchen all over again.
"Liv, please." It's a rumbled whisper, a voice strangled with realization; the effect his absence caused. She has never blamed him for Lewis and never will, but they both know what lies in the unspoken truth between them: his presence would have mattered. She has speculated, imagined, and fantasized the many ways he would have been there for her, and they all turned up empty.

Now he's here, ten years too late with his crumpled face, and this fucking fan is too distracting, and she snaps, her frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface.
"Why did you come back, Elliot? Why couldn't you have just stayed away?"
He's silent, staring, eyes brimmed with tears. She can't look, gaining momentum in
"All I keep thinking of is your smug grin in the hospital, when Kathy couldn't believe we didn't speak for ten years. You looked so proud for being the dutiful husband and abandoning me. Well, good for you; you kept your vows to your wife, and destroyed your vows to your partner."
"That was never my intention. I never wanted to leave you."
"Well, 'what we had was never real, right?"
"I'm sorry. For all of it."
"I don't want your apologies. I don't want anything."
"That's not true."
"You're right. Maybe I do want things. Maybe I deserve them. But not from you. You don't deserve me, Elliot."
"You're right. I don't."
"Yet, you want something anyway. You want forgiveness and absolution, you want me to pretend that I didn't blink one day and you were gone. You want me to stay in the bubble you concocted in your head, where I stood still and time didn't move forward."
"No, Liv, I wanted you to thrive."

"A lot happened without you. I became a sergeant, lieutenant, and captain without you. I became a mom without you. I almost got married without you. And I got kidnapped and tortured without you."
Elliot looks absolutely wrecked, and it inflames something within her, the need to show him what he's missed blazing through every nerve in her body.
He doesn't get to do this. But she does.
She grabs him, unapologetically and unprofessionally, in this hallway with the whirring fan and his squad close by, and she smashes her lips against his. There's nothing romantic or seductive about it: it's ownership and selfishness, possessiveness and anger.
He responds - he responds- and oh she was not prepared for the fallout of kissing Elliot Stabler. He battles back, grabbing her shoulders and caging her into the wall, the fan swirling behind her as he pours his own heartbreak and fury into the kiss. It's everything they haven't said to one another, that they ve kept tucked away under the layers of remorse and grief. Her body betrays her as she fucking moans into his mouth, and it isn't until she hears his own groan in return that she snaps back to reality and tears herself away.
Speechless, breathless, she turns on her heels and walks out.
This time, he doesn't go after her.
It feels like a final goodbye.

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Reposted by EO Ficlets

Julia @juliagulia6.bsky.social · 24/03/2025

I couldn’t resist. #eofic #eo

It’s a moment.
A rare one, a coincidental one, and yet, fate always finds ways to throw them together in their city of millions (to the point where she wonders where fate wandered off to during those ten years of silence). With Noah at dance class on this first enjoyably warm day of March, Olivia takes the opportunity to play tourist and wander the neighborhood around the dance studio, giving herself a chance to inhale the almost-springlike air and let the sun comfortably fan her face for the first time in months.
Ahead of her, Elliot walks out of a brownstone apartment building, moving down the stairs at a clipped pace. It startles her, seeing him in person, unplanned, and it takes her a second for the shock to wear off. They've spoken on the phone, even FaceTimed once when Noah wanted to say hello, but this is different, seeing him in the flesh. He’s casual, a Henley, jeans, and jacket, and he looks good with the thin layer of scruff on his face.
Olivia hesitates, worried that he’s undercover stepping out of this unfamiliar place, when he turns and clocks her from where she’s standing a few buildings down, his face spreading into a wide grin. She relaxes as he enthusiastically approaches and automatically envelops her in a friendly hug, and for once, she lets herself enjoy the feel of his arms wrapped around her body. When they break apart he gives her a noticeable once-over and she blushes, feeling more like herself than she has in years. They exchange pleasantries and clear up the confusion of spotting each other randomly on yet another city street corner— it turns out that Kathleen’s apartment is the coincidental connection to this particular area of Manhattan— and, it also turns out, they both have a free couple of hours.

It’s a cup of coffee.
As luck would have it (fate? Destiny?) they are standing in front of a café. It’s trendy and upscale, unreflective of their past selves amid a decade of coffee carts and precinct sludge from the community pot. But this is a now-or-never window of opportunity to begin anew; maybe their refined palates are an easy, welcomed step forward, instead of rehashing the multiple insecurities plaguing their rekindled friendship. Olivia’s seen several of the dance moms walk into the studio with cups labeled from this café, and Elliot quips that Kathleen has brought him a cup or two and it’s not half bad. She teases that they’ve both become coffee snobs, and it’s lighter and flirtier than she’s ever heard her voice sound.
They step inside and it’s bustling, buzzing with a mid-day hipster vibe. There’s a microphone and an acoustic guitar, a Benson Boone-type wannabe crooning in the corner as several onlookers sway along to the music. Others are chatting over the noise, adding their own cadence to the cozy (and cramped) space.
Somehow, it’s perfect.
One small table for two remains, blessedly on the opposite side of the singer, and they grab it quickly, thoughts in tandem, Olivia sitting while Elliot stands in line. They could have easily ordered from an app on their phones, waited for their names to be yelled out by the teenage barista, but it’s nice to have a minute to breathe and process what this is as he stands a few feet away.
What is this?
It’s familiar and nice, kismet pulling them together on a random Saturday to share a cup of coffee together. That’s what she focuses on as he returns to the table, wincing over the falsetto chords wannabe Boone attempted and failed. That earns him a belly laugh and an ease as she takes a tentative sip, and maybe it’s good to be a coffee snob with the hipsters in the middle of Manhattan.

It’s a walk.
With an hour to spare before Noah’s class ends, Elliot offers to be Olivia’s tour guide of the neighborhood, pointing out Kathleen’s favorite laundromat, Chinese takeout place, and indie bookstore. They wander inside when Olivia’s eyes light up, perusing the shelves of well-loved, tattered classics and tables of shiny new releases. She grins when Elliot asks her what BookTok is, picking up a book from the labeled display titled Butcher & Blackbird, and laughs out loud when he attempts to buy it after reading the back cover. She realizes that none of the spice is included in the description, and thumbs to the first two pages of trigger warnings to gauge his reaction. His eyebrows meet his non-existent hairline, and then he doubles down and grabs the whole damn trilogy. Elliot Stabler reading smut was not on her 2025 bingo card, but spending the last couple of hours with him wasn’t either. She decides that maybe she likes surprises when they include him.
She finds a couple of books for Noah and grabs a signed edition of the new John Green book for herself, and when Elliot insists on paying for all of it she finds that the argument in her is non-existent. This feels natural and right, the two of them going for coffee and walking into bookstores, sharing their lives so comfortably. There’s no awkwardness or overthinking, no worrying about kids or Kathy’s memory. She’s spending the evening with her best friend, and it’s everything she’s ever wanted and wished for, and she longs for more. For once, she finally feels ready to embrace possibility and chase happiness.
When they leave the bookstore, she brushes her hand against his, and it’s all the hint he needs. No words are spoken as he takes control of their hands, her heart. They saunter down the block, hands entwined, and it’s the most normal feeling in the world.

It’s a kiss.
They’re a block from the dance studio when Olivia slows to a stop and pulls Elliot to face her.
“Liv? You okay?”
She isn’t. She’s not okay because she doesn’t want this evening to end. She doesn’t want to walk away from tonight and take ten steps backward again, fading into the background of each other’s lives due to time and circumstance. She wants him, and she wants to say all of this, but her voice defies her, paralyzed by old fears and even older rules of order. Their partnership has always been this idealized, vulnerable, perfect mess, always so in sync and a step away from destruction. She wants to have more easy evenings with him in not-so-random neighborhoods, laughing over snobby coffee, smutty books, and a busker that can’t carry a tune. She knows it won’t always be this light, but she’s ready to fight for them; it’s their time now. But the tears are pooling and she still can’t find her voice, and Elliot looks as if he’s ready to break because he can’t read her mind.
So, she does the only thing that seems logical and reflexive: she kisses him. It takes him a millisecond to reciprocate, his hand threading through her hair to anchor her close as their lips bruise and bite and explore. It’s passion and forgiveness, an exhilarating burst of love. They break apart and he chases with a few lingering kisses down her jawline, before pulling her into a hug.
“I wanted to do this right, Liv. I wanted to take you out on a date, give you a deserved night out, pamper you from start to finish.”
She pulls away to meet his eyes, a sated smile brightening her cheeks.
"I think we just had our first date without even realizing it. And it was perfect.”

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Reposted by EO Ficlets

SAM 🥂🧭🫶 @samwrites99.bsky.social · 12/03/2025

lil something something 🫡

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 10/03/2025

Weekly EO Prompt March 10 - March 16. #eo #eofic

“I love you. I’m sorry it took so long to say it.”

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 24/02/2025

Weekly EO Prompt February 24 - March 2. #eo #eofic

“You don’t get to do this. Not after everything.”

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 10/02/2025

Weekly EO Prompt February 10 - February 16. #eo #eofic

“Let me stay here with you. For once, stop running.”

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 03/02/2025

Weekly EO Prompt January 13 - January 19. #eo Prompt from Ella_Menno on AO3.

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 13/01/2025

Weekly EO Prompt January 13 - January 19. #eo Prompt from @nnaylime.bsky.social

“Is it possible to fall in love with someone a second time?”

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EO Ficlets @eoficletprompts.bsky.social · 06/01/2025

Weekly EO Prompt January 6 - January 12. #eo

“I can’t believe sex sent us to the ER.”

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Reposted by EO Ficlets

ChriskaAnon @chriskaanon.bsky.social · 31/12/2024

Picking this series back up where I write a drabble inspired by the 'title' of SVU episodes. Trying to jump start my muse for 2025. We're on S5 at this point. Loss - EO (Also loosely inspired by EO Ficlets prompt) archiveofourown.org/works/548559...