A/N: Hi All! To start off this is fic is NSFW and contains content that some may find triggering. All warnings, including blood, non-con, consensual, and other uncomfortable situations take place. PLEASE be careful reading this fic. The fist chapter has the most of the non-con and its only mentioned in the rest of the fic.

This fic is 3 chapters long and is a NottPott a/b/o fic and I will hopefully have the next chapterup next week.

I do not own Harry Potter

As always, enjoy!

Chapter 1

Theodore Nott had envisioned his life in many ways; before the war he thought that he would be arranged to marry some dimwitted pureblood, after the war he thought the same, only with a smaller pool to choose from.

That changed when he presented as an omega during the Second Wizarding War.

It was safe to say that his life went to hell after that.

When his father found out he was beaten. Nott sons didn't present as omegas.

In fact, a male omega hasn't been known to present ever, but Theodore knew that it was because any omega sons were killed. It was unacceptable, disgusting, and weak for a pureblood line to have an omega heir.

When the beatings weren't enough, Theodore's father gifted him for alphas for the night to show him his place.

Theodore had the bite marks to prove it and his father watched him get every single one.

Every night after his presentation, the young wizard spent his time with his face buried in bedsheets, begging for it all to stop.

It never did.

He knew that his father never meant for him to survive, but why kill a son when you can make so much profit off of him? What alpha wouldn't pay for a male omega? They're taboo, and they beg so prettily in heat, especially when you dont let them cum after dosing them with lust potion after lust potion.

Theodore was putty in their hands. He would do anything they asked, the potions and his ongoing heat making it hard to separate himself from the omega in his head.

It had become worse when the Death Eaters learned how to trigger his heats with ease, using their pheromones to push him into a panting, begging, pathetic whore.

Nothing more than holes to fill.

They would fuck him for hours, bend him over and take turns until the sun rose. Theodore would try and count the Death Eaters, try and memorize their faces but at one point they all blurred together.

He knew that Cabbe Sr. liked to watch him cry. That his son liked to bite down on any available, clean, skin.

Rowle like to choke Theodore with his cock, and the Lestrange brothers liked to share; one in each hole while the omega suffered.

Even Bellatrix had her fun with him, cutting him with her cursed blade to watch him bleed.

His father was the worst of them. He would hit Theodore with the imperio, forming him to do unthinkable things to others and himself.

"Disgusting," his father would say, "filthy, and unworthy for the Nott name."

On the anniversary of Theodore's presentation, the day of his 18th birthday, Nott Sr. carved those words into the young man's stomach.

Disgusting. Filthy. Unworthy. Forever cut into his once flawless skin. They were of course joined with several claiming bites, proof that alphas had successfully mounted him.

Whore joined those words later. Then slut. Then cum dump.

On nights that there were revels, Theodore was received that none of his friends would see him like this, that only Vincent Crabbe was there to do things to him. Conveniently, the revels were timed around his heat, the already secured cock ring would be tightened so he was forced to cum dry over and over. They would fuck the brunette wizard until he passed out form exhaustion or pain only to revive him to do it all again.

He would be knotted for countless times, the omega heat forcing the alphas into a rut.

When the Death Eaters got bored, and when his own father decided that he was tiered of his son, Theodore was sold to the werewolves.

Fenrir Grayback was another nightmare all together. He and his pack didnt dare change him, no, that would take all the fun away. They would fuck him without remorse, and no amount of begging would make them falter, if anything it would make them worse. Unlike the Death Eaters, the werewolves didnt care about where they fucked Theodore, if there were any witnesses. They let their savagery out freely, biting and pounding into Theodore whenever they wanted. And when they were all spent and their knots where softened, they would stick objects into his ass, fucking him slowly with anything from fingers to bottles. He would moan at the pressure against his prostate, arching his back in hopes for more.

"Look at the little slut," Fenrir would laugh, "he likes to be fucked as much as his father said he did."

They didn't feed him, that would have been a reward for being a good cum dump. But it changed his already stretched out body to grow even more lanky. His brown hair had become shaggy, and his once bright blue eyes had become hollow.

Theodore was the entertainment, and the nights they triggered his heats were the best especially if they coincided with the full moon. It had become the werewolves' favorite night. They would watch him beg for hours, pleading for something that he'd never have. The female Alphas would tighten his cock ring, teasing and playing with him until the moon began to rise.

Thats when Theodore truly lost his battle. The werewolves would transform and the males would take turns fucking him, bending him over and forcing his face into the grass. It happened whether they could trigger his heat or not but at least during his non-heat months he would know that he didnt like what was being done, but all boundaries disappeared when the heat struck.

Fenrir would always have first dibs, and he would leave Theodore a screaming begging mess, an omega unable to tell if he wanted more or if he wanted it all to stop.

After him, it was a nightmare. The other werewolves would scratch and fuck him until the sun rose and they were forced back into their human forms.

They wouldn't even stop when he began to bleed, if anything, they got more excited when they spotted the crimson slowly dripping down his legs

The females would take hime once again, riding him slowly while he begged for them to stop moving up and down on his overstimulated length.

The females would play games with him, fingers in his ass, curled against his prostate, and hand around his cock, slowly pumping him. At the last moment, they would allow the cock ring to squeeze the base of his cock, leaving Theodore begging, squirming to just please, please kill me.

The males on the other hand had a different game all together. They would fill his ass with cum over and over until there was no room, then they would plug him up, and let him move around with a distended stomach, crawling from place to place.

After three years, Fenrir sold him to a brothel, and things didnt change much.

The brothel was a large home with a ballroom. Every omega in the home had a room in the upper levels, but Theodore was given one in the cellar. He had asked to be away from the other omegas, afraid he would taint their chances of finding a mate. Theodore did, however, bounce back from the four years of torture he went though under the thumb of his father and Greyback. He gained weight and even gained back a little bit of muscle mass.

The scars didnt fade though. His shame barred to the world.

The Mistress, a older, unbound, omega that reminded Theodore of McGonagall, would watch over him with sadness, her nose wrinkling in pity she should see his marks. She had the brothel's healer count the scars; 335 in total covering him from neck to feet, even covering down to the back of his hands.

The number reminded him of how dirty he truly was.

The Mistress would try and give him things to do, but they both knew that he was useless, and that his life would be spent with his face in the sheets to be used and thrown away.

The beta that assisted the Mistress was a different story. He was a brute, taking advantage of Theodore when Mistress wasnt watching. He would sneak into the omega's room and fuck him till his hearts content.

Theo couldn't say he minded too much as long as the other omegas weren't hurt.

But it was here that he slowly gained back his humanity with the help of the other omegas.

All the other omegas were females, and there were kind to him but they were there for a different reason than he was. The others had clean skin, bright and ready for a single bonding mark, and most had never lain with an Alpha, or anyone for that matter. They were there to find suitable mates, mates that would take care of them, the Mistress would make sure of it. Their heats were controlled with potions so that they didn't loose their faculties.

But Theodore was a different story all together. He was covered in bonding marks, his body ruined for any alphas to want him. Potions didn't help wither and he was forced to go through his heats alone— apparently being mated so many times ensured it.

Theodore was there to help the other omegas find mates, to get them ready.

Of course the omegas would sit with him at night when he was willing to have company, not that they would listen to his pleads to be left alone.

Luna Lovegood had been a surprising comfort. She was the second youngest omega at the brothel, her blonde hair always in soft curls down her back.

"I think that we should get you out into the ballroom next month," She told him the fifteenth month Theodore had been there. Theodore had been in bed for a day after a gala, his body wasnt responding well to seeing other omegas getting what he wanted so badly, "There has to be an alpha to take you. You would be such a good mate."

"There isn't anyone for me," he coughed, "I'm a whore. Alphas don't like whores."

There was no use in arguing with Theodore, the other omegas knew that. Luna just helped Theodore drink his water and tucked him in for more rest so the heartbreak of being an unsuitable mate wouldn't kill him.

Before Theodore knew it, a month had passed, and the omegas were getting ready for another gala to find their matching pair. The lanky brunette would help the other 15 omegas into their dresses. He would do their hair and tell them encouraging words.

When the omegas were all out in the main ballroom, Theodore would watch from the balcony, holding onto one of the coulombs for support, overlooking the festivities. The music was blaring and everyone in attendance would be so dressed up, their beautiful robes reminding him of a time where he was accepted in society.

Luna was dancing with a strapping young alpha who kissed her hand after the dance. Even from far away he could see the blush on the blond omega's face.

Another omega disappeared into the garland with an alpha and an elf to supervise and ensure nothing untoward happened.

"Maybe you should join them out there," the Mistress said from behind Theodore.

"I don't belong down there," Theodore said.

The Mistress sighed, "You belong with a good alpha, a kind alpha."

Theodore's eyes watered and he shook his head.

The Mistress left Theodore in his self-loathing on the balcony to join everyone else on the dance floor. The alpha that danced with Luna, Longbottom from what Theodore could see, approached the Mistress, speaking to her in hushed tones.

He was asking if he could mate with Luna. If he could take her away from the brothel and build her a home.

Theodore felt emotion rise in his chest.

The Mistress nodded and Longbottom gave her a deep bow.

It wasn't fair.

Theodore knew what happened next. Luna would stay at the Manor for another month while Longbottom courted her, and when the Mistress found that his offer was a true one, Luna would leave this place forever.

The brunette wiped away the tears that had gathered in his eyes, scolding himself for the jealousy that bubbled up when he know Luna deserved to be happy.

Theodore swallowed his pain and watched the part go on, a familiar head of black hair walking though the extravagant double-doors. The music stopped for a moment and alphas and omegas alike turned to greet the boy-who-lived. Potter respectfully nodded and made his way though the room, his eyes not really lingering on any single omega.

Theodore had heard about the Golden Trio's presentations. Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger all alphas, but only two finding mates. Weasley was with Astoria Greengrass, mate-bound with the omega pureblood beauty for two years. Hermione Granger had been bound to none other than Draco Malfoy, a beta, for more than a year.

Potter was an alpha who could have any omega, his brave acts during the war endured that, but why he hadn't chosen a mate yet was something only he could answer.

The sight of Potter made Theodore's knees weak, his broad shoulders and powerful presents was enough to send anyone into heat.

Theodore watched the handsome alpha elegantly walk from person to person, omega to omega for conversation. Potter must have felt Theodore's eyes on him because the black haired man looked up to the balcony, and met the brunettes eyes.

Potter smiled up at him and waved.

Theodore's heart stopped.

Potter looked away and approached the Mistress, talking and laughing as the night went on. The green-eyed man occasionally looked back up to Theodore, only to quickly look away, back to the Mistress.

Theodore escaped from the balcony, afraid if he stood there for another moment, his heat would be triggered.