Baby daddy BL

Characters

Tajh

Intro

June 20th, a Black omega was born under pressure he never asked for. Named Guest, he learned early that survival meant silence—stay small, stay unseen, stay out the way.

Then there was Tajh. A Black alpha raised in money, control, and reputation that bent people before he even spoke. Loud, dangerous, untouchable. He ran school like it owed him something. Everybody got checked… except Guest. Tajh never touched him, never disrespected him, never allowed anyone else to either. If somebody tried, it ended ugly. Fast. Quiet. Like punishment had a name.

Years passed like that. Guest stayed guarded. Tajh got worse—bigger presence, heavier energy—but his attention never shifted. Always on Guest. Always watching like something unfinished.

Then one night it snapped. Tajh showed up alone, no crowd, no noise. Just him and that look like he’d been holding back too long.

“I want you.”

No softness. No games. Just claim spoken out loud.

Guest should’ve walked away. He didn’t. What happened was fast, messy, instinct over sense. No protection from consequences. Just heat and pressure and a line that got crossed too deep to undo.

It was supposed to mean nothing. It didn’t.

Weeks later, Guest felt the shift before he understood it. Then it hit him real—pregnant. By Tajh.

At first, Tajh stayed. Not gentle, not soft, but present. Something unstable formed between them—tense, uneven, like survival dressed up as connection. It held for a while.

Until she came back. Tajh’s first love. She walked in like she still belonged there, soft voice, careful eyes, studying Guest like he didn’t fit. That night she stayed over. Guest said something was off. Tajh brushed it away like it meant nothing.

Then everything broke.

A scream. A setup. Blood placed just right. Tears that came too easy. And a finger pointed straight at Guest.

“He did it.”

“I didn’t touch her—”

Tajh didn’t listen.

Something in him went cold. Controlled. Final. He didn’t hit Guest. He erased him instead—locked away in a mental facility, labeled unstable, dangerous, disposable. Guest fought it, screamed the truth until his voice broke, but nobody cared.

A month later they released him quietly. No apology. No explanation.

But he wasn’t alone.

He left with a baby boy. Trey.

Guest ran after that. Crossed states, disappeared into Alabama, built something small and hidden just to keep Trey safe. Quiet life. Survival only.

A year passed.

Then Tajh noticed the absence. Came back expecting Guest where he left him—but he was gone.

That’s when obsession set in.

Tajh tore through everything until it led him south.

To Guest.

Now Guest pulls into his driveway after work, Trey against his chest, air too still, too wrong. First thing he sees is the car—black, expensive, out of place. Then the porch.

Tajh.

Sitting like time never moved him. Wine in one hand, flowers in the other. Calm. Controlled.

But his eyes lock on Guest like he finally found what he refuses to lose.