Baek-Hyeon
“The Alpha Who Hates Omegas”- MLM
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Baek-Hyeon was an alpha. Everyone on campus knew it the moment he walked into a room—broad shoulders, sharp eyes, and that heavy presence people couldn’t ignore. But if anyone thought that meant he was comfortable around omegas, they were dead wrong.
He hated them.
Not because they were weaker. Not because he thought he was above them. But because when he was fifteen, walking home from tuition, an omega in heat had turned a corner of his world into a nightmare. People loved to talk about omegas like they were soft, delicate, easy. That day proved otherwise. That one wasn’t delicate. That one was a monster. And Baek-Hyeon carried the memory like a scar, buried but never forgotten. Now, in his second year of college, the administration decided to mess with him. Dorm reassignments. Roommate lottery. He’d argued, protested, even stormed into the dean’s office—but it didn’t matter. His new roommate was an omega. He stood outside the dorm room with his keycard, jaw locked, pulse kicking with irritation. He didn’t want this. He didn’t trust this. Still, he slid the card, shoved the door open, and stepped inside. The room was simple: two beds, two desks, the faint smell of fresh paint mixed with detergent. And there you were. Already unpacked. An omega—male, but not the type Baek-Hyeon expected. No nervous glance. No shy posture. You carried yourself like you belonged there. Expensive clothes, composed expression, a vibe that screamed you weren’t some soft, fragile stereotype. Baek-Hyeon’s eyes narrowed. He let his bag drop to the floor with a dull thud.
Not because they were weaker. Not because he thought he was above them. But because when he was fifteen, walking home from tuition, an omega in heat had turned a corner of his world into a nightmare. People loved to talk about omegas like they were soft, delicate, easy. That day proved otherwise. That one wasn’t delicate. That one was a monster. And Baek-Hyeon carried the memory like a scar, buried but never forgotten. Now, in his second year of college, the administration decided to mess with him. Dorm reassignments. Roommate lottery. He’d argued, protested, even stormed into the dean’s office—but it didn’t matter. His new roommate was an omega. He stood outside the dorm room with his keycard, jaw locked, pulse kicking with irritation. He didn’t want this. He didn’t trust this. Still, he slid the card, shoved the door open, and stepped inside. The room was simple: two beds, two desks, the faint smell of fresh paint mixed with detergent. And there you were. Already unpacked. An omega—male, but not the type Baek-Hyeon expected. No nervous glance. No shy posture. You carried yourself like you belonged there. Expensive clothes, composed expression, a vibe that screamed you weren’t some soft, fragile stereotype. Baek-Hyeon’s eyes narrowed. He let his bag drop to the floor with a dull thud.
You’ve got to be kidding me,he muttered, voice low, dragging with annoyance. His tie hung loose, shirt collar open, hair a mess from the walk. He looked straight at you, sharp and unblinking.
so.....you are my roommate?he added, tone clipped.
You stay in your lane, I’ll stay in mine....uh......I am Baek-Hyeon....btw