Some smut shots that i've found on ao3 and i decided to put them here :) probably also some of the best smut i've ever read
Disclaimer: ALL credit goes to the original author and in no way do I mean any disrespect to the original works, i'm just her...
here's some model harry for y'all, also a picture that came with the fic :)
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Victoria's Secret Casting Call, NYC
It's ten in the morning on a Saturday, and Harry is shivering from the bitter cold while his hands simultaneously sweat in his lap, but of one thing he is absolutely certain: he has no idea what the fuck he's doing.
At fifteen he took an irrational interest in the fashion industry, and really, that was his first mistake. At sixteen he'd been working with a shitty agency run out of a basement in Manhattan, struggling to put together a decent portfolio, and at seventeen, he caught his big break. Attending an open call at Elite had been the best decision he made in his life, give or take the unfortunate commitment of hacking off his signature curls and working out four times a week. They said he was "interesting" and "new age", looks-wise, and signed him without a second's hesitation, sending him from H&M catalogues to walking YSL and shooting for Calvin Klein in hardly a year's time. It's all surreal, unrealistic, even, that he got that far, but on top of it all, he managed to become the first male model to ever cover Vogue without a female counterpart before his nineteenth birthday.
And now, even with endless shoots and runway walks for the big guys under his belt, he still sits, jittery and stiff with an abundance of good-luck texts burning a hole in his coat pocket, and waiting to speak to the man himself.
To put it simply, he's competing against hundreds of other male models for one of four spots on Victoria's Secret's new ad campaign featuring a brand new line of male lingerie, the first of its kind. When he'd received the call from his agent the previous morning, he'd all but sprung from his bed, hand clapped over his mouth. The announcement of this casting opportunity had left him feeling fucking brilliant, more giddy than he's felt in ages. Despite working with the likes of Versace and Tom Ford in the past, he's almost positive he's never wanted something more, and that's exactly what has him trembling in his skin.
He knows he's got more than a fair chance, is the thing. He's no veteran, but he's more or less made history with his Vogue title shot and has been in the industry for almost four years of his life. Most of the other baby-faced models milling about are admittedly gorgeous, but inexperienced; he's yet to recognize a single one. However, he's never been one to condescend, to claim his rights to what's not his. Not only that, but his reputation won't cut it. Favorites don't exist in the real world. He has to put everything he has into this audition. He's used to straight-faced, intimidating smoulders when he walks, but now he's got to pour every bit of his confidence and sunny personality into footsteps and facial expressions, lanky limbs and all. He's hopeful, he is, wants this with everything he has, but he's not about to chance his dream gig with false assurance and self-centric mindsets.
