Teenlock Johnlock
Stranger: ((Words are censored because I donāt want omegle to flag me. TW: underaged, se*ual assault (not rape), objectification from a young age, bullying, emotional abuse/manipulation. Omega!John (16) is pregnant)) John hadnāt wanted to keep it. It hadnāt really been his decision to make, though. John had just wanted some support for the abortion. But his mother and father had begged, and pleaded, and cried over the loss of a soul (an undeveloped fetus, but he couldnāt argue with them any more). A stupid alpha he hadnāt seen in a month, and a cond*m that he had pulled off in the middle of s*x. The fucker had been helping John through his heat. And he decided to not wear one. Because it /felt bad/. Fine. He kept it. But he was giving the thing up for adoption. Still, school was rough. His parents, the same people whoād talked him into keeping it, forced him to go to school. Eight months along, and life was rough. He heard the snickers. Felt the stares of people in public as he walked home. John never went out into public. School, and home. That was it. āDonāt fucking touch me!ā Snapped the blond as someone bumped into him. He didnāt turn his head, just cupped his swollen stomach with a low growl, the other resting on the door of his locker. John reached out blindly, grabbing the other by his collar, and then he pinned him against the locker by his shirt. āDonāt fucking /touch me/!ā
You: Sherlock held his hands up quickly, showing that he hadn't been trying to do anything. He stared at John's mouth, trying to understand what he was saying but the blond was talking too fast. Sherlock was deaf and although he managed to keep it a secret from most people, getting by on reading lips and going through years of speech therapy to make his speech sound close to normal. However, when he was being unexpectedly held up against a locker for bumping into someone and that someone was yelling so fast that he couldn't understand what he was saying, Sherlock didn't even think about pretending he wasn't deaf. He brought his hand quickly up to the side of his face, apologising in sign language again and again before he realised what he was doing. "S-sorry," he managed to get out.
Stranger: John fell silent when the other began to sign. A surge of painful guilt shot through his torso (though, honestly, that could have been the baby kicking again. It rather liked to take jabs at John's kidneys), and he released his hand, gently brushing off the other with a frown. His lunch was terrible. And he'd had a shite day over all. His parents had threatened him in a million and one ways to get him to go to school, but the morning had been filled with contractions. They... Were distracting. And he'd spent the night awake, unable to fall asleep. Whether it was because of his aching back, itching, swollen feet, the contractions, or the goddamn kicking baby. "I'm sorry," murmured John after a short moment. The kid was deaf. He dug through his mind, and eventually signed out the letters to spell "sorry". That was all he knew of sign. His hands dropped, and then he grunted, cupping his stomach.
You: Sherlock relaxed a little as John let go of him and he even smiled a little when John finger spelled an apology to him. It felt like all the time he was expected to accommodate to everyone else by learning how to talk and read lips and to keep his hands down when they were itching to sign but it was nice to have someone try and accommodate back a little. He frowned when John grunted and cupped his stomach though. "Are you alright?" he asked. "Did you hurt yourself?" Now that he thought about it, the blond had pushed him up against the locker with more force than he had realised the average pregnant Omega had.
Stranger: John managed a small nod, though he groaned softly. "It kicks," he eventually sighed, composing himself enough to peer in the other's eyes. "It hurts like hell," the blond paused. The other kid's speech was really good. He reached back into his locker, then took another look at the crap lunch he'd packed himself, then tossed it back in the locker, shutting it a bit too hard. John signed another struggled apology, then patted the other's shoulder, beginning to limp off to the bathroom. He'd lock himself in there for the rest of the day. Classes... They were too irritating at this point.
You: Sherlock frowned as he watched the boy walk away from him. He didn't look very well at all. He followed after him, quickly reaching out for his shoulder to get his attention without even thinking about how that would end considering the trouble that he had just gotten himself into for bumping into him; he just wasn't used to calling out at people to get their attention. Since that never got his attention, he never remembered that it got other people's. "Want my food?" he asked, thinking about how the blond hadn't seemed very happy with his own. "I'm not hungry."
Stranger: A hand grabbed his shoulder. John flinched initially, but turned back to peer at the other with a faint sigh. The blond shook his head, but then pursed his lips, and eventually nodded. "I'm picky," he murmured. "If there's anything I can eat... Then yeah," John swallowed and then rubbed at the back of his neck, studying the other's blue eyes. "My name is John."
Stranger: (brb_
You: "I'm Sherlock," the brunette told him. "My locker is just over here." It was lucky that he had a lot of food, he thought, if John was a picky eater. His mother was always trying to encourage him to eat more so she filled his bag up with food everyday, most of which was stolen by bullies and the rest he just gave away anyway. They reached Sherlock's locker and he opened it, pulling out his bag to show John all the food that was in it. "Take whatever you want," he said.
You: (brb)
You: (back)
Stranger: (I'm so sorry about that)
Stranger: (I actually forgot I was in the middle of a roleplay, then I went out and got pallets to do a DIY)
Stranger: (I'm so sorry)
You: (That's alright haha. I had to drop my neighbour at the train station so I was gone for a while too)
Stranger: (Again, so sorry!)
Stranger: John glanced into the bag. Eventually, the blond pulled out a pack of biscuits and the string cheese. He couldn't eat the sandwich. It had tuna. Too high in mercury. The grapes looked disgusting. As did the peanut butter and celery. He offered a small smile. "Thank you," sighed the omega. "What's "thank you" in sign language?"
You: Sherlock brought his hand up to his chin and moved it out towards John, smiling a little. "No problem," he said, putting the rest of the things back into his locker and shutting it. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked. "You could go see the school nurse."
Stranger: John repeated the motion, and smiled back. The sound of the shutting locker was surprisingly soft. He turned his head, distracted, and then shrugged. "No. I don't really- no," he cleared his throat, and shook his head. "Every time I see her she urges me to get tested for STDs. Thinks I... Y'know. I don't know if you can tell, but my hormones are a bit crazy. If I see her again, I'll either burst into tears, or punch her," he paused, and then snorted a quiet laugh. "I'm not "alright". But I'm fine. Thanks, though."
You: Sherlock couldn't help but be a little overwhelmed with how much John spoke. People who knew that he was deaf usually spoke slowly, far more slowly than he needed them to but at least they were easy to understand. John however spoke so fast that Sherlock found himself missing half of what he said. He decided just to offer a small smile and nod which never seemed to do him wrong. "How far along are you?" he asked curiously.
Stranger: There was no real response. John's brows furrowed, but he shrugged, licking his lips. "Eight months," he eventually stated, deciding to keep his answers short. He'd never spoken to anyone who was deaf before. Maybe he was speaking a bit too fast. "This is supposed to be my last week in school. I doubt it will be, though."
You: "Why wouldn't it be?" Sherlock asked. As he spoke, he looked away so that when it was John's turn to reply, he could look at him for longer. He'd noticed pretty quickly after he first started school that people got uncomfortable when he looked at them for too long but he didn't know how they expected him to understand them if he wasn't allowed to look at them.
Stranger: Right. Wait until they make eye contact. John smiled at Sherlock, leaning against the locker as he unwrapped the string cheese. "My parents have been pushing me to complete school. I want to, don't get me wrong," John paused, and then exhaled a small sigh. "But it's been hard. And they are... Tough."
You: Sherlock nodded. "My parents are tough too," he told him. "I wanted to go to a deaf school but they made me come here so that I would be normal. I'd feel more normal if I could talk with my hands though and I miss half of what my teachers are saying because they spend half their time facing the board while they talk."
Stranger: "We have a few classes together, right?" John took a moment to eat, and then tossed the wrapper. "I can give you my notes. They might not be very helpful, but if you ever need anything, I usually have them," he paused, and then sighed, rubbing a hand over his stomach. "Maybe you could teach me a bit of sign. In exchange for the notes," smiled the blond. "I've got to go. Before the bell rings."
You: Sherlock was surprised. "You want to learn sign?" he asked. No one ever wanted to learn how to sign. If Sherlock could talk, why should they bother? He nodded though. "Okay. Notes for teaching you sign language." He glanced at his watch and nodded. "See you in class then?" he asked.
Stranger: "Ah... No," John shook his head, and faintly frowned. "Not today," Today, he was going to hide out in a bathroom, then leave at the end of the day. "But tomorrow," John nodded his head, and then took a step backwards. "See you."
You: Sherlock frowned but didn't push it. "See you," he said, waiting for John to turn around before he did in case John wanted to say something after he turned his back. "See you tomorrow then."
Stranger: John slipped into the nearest bathroom. He shut the door, and then locked it. The stalls were too small. And no one cared when entire bathrooms were locked. At least, not enough to complain to get them unlocked. He shut his eyes, and then sat against the wall. Maybe a nap. Maybe he'd just dick around on his phone.
You: Sherlock went to class and sighed when he saw that they would be watching a video. As always, the video didn't have subtitles and within a few minutes he realised that the visuals weren't going to help him understand what was happening either. He excused himself to the bathroom but when he got there, he frowned, realising they were locked. After trying to open the door a few times, he decided to pick the lock instead. "John?" he asked, seeing John sitting there against the wall.
Stranger: He heard the jiggle of the doorknob, but didn't open the door. In fact, he didn't even look up. Though the door opened suddenly. His brow furrowed, and he looked up in surprise. "Hi," he murmured after a moment of silence. "Ah. How'd you open the door?"
You: Sherlock held up a bobby pin. "Knowing how to pick a lock is an essential part of life." He shut the door behind him and locked it again before sitting down on the ground opposite John. "So this is where you go when you skip class?" he asked.
Stranger: "No one bothers enough to complain about a locked bathroom door," John shrugged, peering at Sherlock curiously. "Yeah. This is where I go. Are you skipping, too? Class boring?"
You: "Class is a video without subtitles," Sherlock shrugged. "I'm sure it's very interesting but all I know is that there were pictures of rocks. But if my teacher catches me not watching it, I get in trouble for not paying attention."
Stranger: John rolled his eyes. "Lazy fat-arse," he mumbled. "He's not good at teaching, anyways. So..." the blond gave a small shrug, and then groaned, curling inward a bit. He met Sherlock's eyes, then licked his lips, shaking his head hurriedly. "Contractions. It's not... They're normal."
You: Sherlock frowned. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Can I do anything?" He didn't like seeing the other in pain, even if he did insist that it was normal. "How about a drink? Would a drink help?"
Stranger: "No, no," he shook his head, face screwed up in pain. Eventually, he exhaled a deep breath, and looked up with a dazed expression. "'m alright," the omega sighed. "Do you want to spend the rest of the day in here?"
You: Sherlock nodded, relieved when he saw John relax a bit. "You're sure no one will come in?" he asked. "People will talk if they find the two of us hiding away in here." He moved a little closer to John so he was there in case it happened again.
Stranger: "People talk anyways," John looked up to the door, then shook his head, being sure to make eye contact before he spoke again. "No. You're the first to come in. I don't mind the rumors, anyways. Unless you do. Then... Another time."
You: Sherlock shook his head. "I don't care about rumours. I mean, I'm completely oblivious to what is happening around me unless it's right in front of me anyway," he shrugged. "I don't hear them whispering behind my back."
Stranger: John smiled. He stretched, and then nodded. "I wanted to say that you're lucky. But your life has got to be way harder. Even if you get the benefit of... Not hearing them." John crawled forward a bit, pulling out his phone. "Do you want to watch a film? With subtitles?"
You: Sherlock grinned and nodded, moving so that he was sitting beside John. Being next to John would make communicating with him harder but he supposed it wouldn't matter if they were watching a movie.
Stranger: John chose a Bond film. It was one of the only ones he enjoyed lately. He'd watch them so many times, that none of the plot twists made him cry, or want to scream at the telly in anger. He leaned against Sherlock, and eventually rested his head on the other's shoulder.
You: Sherlock was a bit surprised when John rested his head on his shoulder, especially after the way he'd reacted before to them accidentally touching, but he didn't mind. He shifted a little, getting comfortable and watched the movie, glad that he could actually understand what was going on.
Stranger: The bell rang. Several times someone tried the door, but wandered off with a groan upon finding that it was locked. Once the bell rang again, he tapped Sherlock's shoulder, and sat up with a smile. "See? They don't care enough."
You: Sherlock was confused. "What do you mean?" he asked. He hadn't heard either of the bells, or the people's attempts at opening the door. He hadn't even noticed that lunch time had come and gone.
Stranger: "Oh," John paused, and then shook his head. "The bell rang. Several people tried to come inside. And no one came in," he nodded back to the film, but kept Sherlock's gaze. There was something nice about it. Eye contact. Everyone was too afraid to look at John. Clerks, teachers. Didn't matter who. He was a pregnant, sixteen-year-old omega. It made people uncomfortable.
You: Sherlock smiled a little at how undeterred John was by Sherlock always looking at him. He was being called a freak on a regular basis because of his 'staring problem' but he supposed he had grown used to it over the years. He gave John a small smile before looking back at the movie.
Stranger: The final bell rang. They'd moved onto a television show at that point. A comedy. He shut off his phone, and stretched, followed by a yawn, then turned his head to meet Sherlock's eyes. "The bell rang. It's time to go home."
You: Sherlock nodded. "How do you get home?" he asked, sitting up straighter and stretching a little. He'd enjoyed spending the day with John, even if he knew he was sure to get into trouble for it later.
Stranger: "Walk," John rubbed at his eyes, and then faintly shrugged. "What about you?" his own home wasn't too far. It didn't mean that he enjoyed walking when massively pregnant. Home, and school were the only places he'd visited in... Three months. The walk was sometimes worse than school.
You: "Walk," Sherlock nodded. "Where do you live? Maybe we're going the same way. I'm heading to speech therapy though. I have speech therapy after school every day." He stood up and offered a hand to help John up.
Stranger: John managed to haul himself up with a bit of a grunt. "On King Street," he rolled his shoulders and yawned once more, a hand scrubbing through his blond hair. "Speech therapy every day? I was wondering why you sounded so good. I would have no idea you were deaf, if I hadn't..." John paused, and signed out "sorry" again.
You: Sherlock nodded. "Most people don't know I'm deaf. I don't exactly advertise it. They already think I'm weird," he shrugged. "You caught me by surprise though. I wasn't thinking so I started signing instead of speaking. My speech therapy is on the street next to yours," he grinned.












