#alessi

Summary:Alessi likes when you lose. You’ll never tell him you do it on purpose.

Words:1313

Ao3:[HERE]

A/N:Discovered@rose-of-hearts was a closeted Alessi-fucker, went into bastard mode (as I do) and the rest is history.

WARNINGS: no hard kinks, but plenty of dong. Also ALESSI is a warning in himself.

Alessi likes to play games. For someone so confident in his adulthood, he can be quite childish. He knows he’ll win and that makes him feel excited. You’re just in it for the reward, even if you’ll never admit that to the bastard himself.

Hide and seek: that was today’s game of choice.

When you hear the distant rinkle of bells moving through the shadows, you realise he’s found you. ‘That didn’t take long,’ you think, pressing your back against the back wall in an attempt to appear smaller and remain hidden. Your heart begins to race, knowing what these games usually ended in.

A loud thumping of boots passes by the closet and you instinctively hold your breath. Alessi pauses, his shadow pacing by beneath the door a few times. You prepare to be snatched from your hiding place. His breathing deepens, you hear him place a hand against the door and a pair of knuckles tapping against the wood. By some feat of miracle, you manage to remain quiet, clasping both hands over your mouth to prevent any sounds from escaping. There’s no point to this, you know Alessi is already aware you’re hiding in this cupboard. He’s just playing a game –and you are his prize.

“(Y/n),” he cooes, rapping his knuckles against the wood once more, “I’ve found you…” You hear a sharp, gritty scrape and realise he’s dragging his hatchet against the surface of the door. You’re about to bust out and make a break for it when its blade smashes through the wood, stopping mere inches from your face. You yelp as the door flings open.

Alessi reels back the weapon and tosses it aside, clattering to the floor behind him. You have no time to react as two strong arms wrap around your waist and drag you out. He holds you against him, a chuckle reverberating within his chest. “Can’t wait to collect my prize,” the man says before dragging his long, wet tongue across your jawline. You writhe against him and feel his cock pressing against your hips –he’s already hard. Your little ‘game’ undoubtedly added to his arousal. Alessi loved to win after all –and you couldn’t say you minded losing.

You shiver, feeling a pair of lips latch onto your neck, teeth grazing the skin ever so carefully. Alessi’s hands begin to wander –reckless in their enthusiasm. He gropes and caresses without real purpose, but his touch leaves you wanting nonetheless. You grab onto his suspenders for support as his hands land on your breast –squeezing down. Alessi’s large palms begin to knead the plump flesh with a less than gentle touch, harshly pinching the curves of your body with his fingers.

“H-Hey!” you protest, “–take it easy, you damn fuzzhead!” You wince and slap his hand away.

Alessi scowls for a second but when his touch returns to your curves, he’s very deliberate and careful with his movements. His fingers glide across your body, down your stomach, and settle on your thighs. He caresses them, gently this time, and presses his lips into yours. His eager tongue trails over your bottom lip and, with a well-times pinch in your nether regions, causes you to gasp so he can slip it inside your mouth. Meanwhile his hands are making quick work of your bottoms. Once they’re out of the way, Alessi wastes no time getting down to business.

Two thick fingers enter your cunt at once, stretching you open. You moan into the kiss and feel your hips buck into his hand of their own volition. Alessi pumps his digits into you, dragging them down your inner walls and curling them slightly in a way that makes your stomach flip. Your hands tighten around his suspenders and you subconsciously pull his closer. A throaty moan becomes trapped between your lips as Alessi cries out. He’s getting impatient. You hear the tell-tale sound of a zipper being undone and he withdraws his fingers a second later. He breaks the kiss to breathe and reaches down, rubbing the head of his cock against your soaking folds.

“You want it don’t you, baby girl?” he asks, eyes blown wide with desire. The tip is pressing at your entrance, dipping in just barely –not enough to satisfy, but enough to drive you crazy. He grabs the base of his cock and strokes you again and again, groaning in pure bliss. “Tell me you want it–” he moans out, dipping the tip completely into your heat. You can feel the defined ridge of his cockhead scrape against your entrance as he pushes in, but before you can feel that same friction where you desire it most, he halts his movements –waiting for your response.

This was bullying.

“I-I want it–” you stutter out, “I want your cock, Alessi!”

That’s all he needed to hear –his hips slam against yours and you feel his thick, pulsing cock slide home. Its girth fills you to the brim, his fingers being a poor prerequisite for its size. Your insides tense around his cock as he assumes a brutally fast pace. You moan out, but his tongue dives into your mouth to swallow up the sound. The slick appendage dives deeper into your mouth and you nearly panic as it runs across the back of your own tongue. His reach was ridiculous! You find yourself breathing through your nose as his tongue works its magic.

Meanwhile, the tip of his cock is grazing your cervix as he pounds into you. Your knees start to feel weak under his constant assault, and Alessi notices you struggle. He picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist for support. A knot begins to tighten in your gut and you realise you won’t last much longer. Alessi groans into your mouth as you clench around his cock. He breaks the kiss and leans his head against your chest, rocking his hips into yours even faster. The lewd slap of flesh-on-flesh bounces off the walls and fills the corridor with a debauched symphony of desire. You fear someone might hear, though you’d have to admit your mind was a tad too clouded to care. The risk was part of the game. Let them find you.

A searing hot fire begins to burn under your skin as Alessi grinds his hips against you, prodding the very back of your cunt with his cock. You can feel him pushing against your cervix –the thick ridge of his tip grazing your most sensitive spots. It grinds against your walls –It’s enough to drive you over the edge: your toes curl and your legs tighten around him as you cum. His name rolls off your lips in a sweet, wanting whisper –over and over again until your throat runs dry. You’re no longer capable of doing anything other than sing his praises as you come undone. Alessi is close as well. His hips slam into your battered sex with reckless abandon until you feel his cock convulse within you, his thick, hot seed spilling into your cunt. Even long after he finishes, Alessi continues to buck his hips until he’s completely milked dry. His chest is heaving and you actually have to push him away so he withdraws his softening cock from within you.

After he puts you down and you’ve caught you breath, you smirk a little, satisfied with your Loser’s Trophy. “Well played, fuzzhead.”

“You too, shorty.”

You were not quite satisfied yet, however. In fact, another round sounded like a splendid idea. You just had to convince Alessi to chase you around a bit more –and you knew exactly how to get him there: “I finished first though,” you said, cocking a mocking brow.

Alessi paused, eyes narrowing dangerously as your words began to sink in. “Best two out of three.”

Hook line and sinker. “Deal.”

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The job description “Industrial Design” should be retired. Automation and 3D printing technologies have outclassed this profession that once required creativity and physical labor. Today all is needed is an individual capable to use -within a certain skill set- 3D software; the rest is done by the engineer and the machine. Soon the engineer will be removed too and the machines will do the rest.

This profession had a great life the entire 20th century because there was the need to create a whole new reality of products that did not exist. Industrial designers of the past placed together art and crafting so the development and production process could exist in a small, yet more controllable environment. Alessi, Kartell, Braun, were all characterized by important authors at a time productivity wasn’t global like it is nowadays.

Industrial Design has become an anachronistic job title in today’s global economy (Ettore Sottsass design for Knoll).

Today companies think in large scale and in order to be able to continue so they integrated different profiles in their conceptual process: stylists, intellectuals, writers, artists, professors, CEOs, have all contributed to this change. Even if you might think IKEA as a brand fostering just industrial designer, you are wrong.

The field of design has spawned other path choices creative people begun to follow and improve. Yesterday graphic designers were painting and cutting papers, today they are designing websites; those who didn’t make the jump perished and found out the hard way the world had no use for them.

Plenty of job ads wanting industrial designers are actually requests for candidates with extremely good software rendering skills first. Why? Companies requiring this profile are manufacturers of parts and components like window/door frames, electrical components, or some other hazy unspecified custom production line. Some others dare to ask for an engineering degree so they can place the candidate to occupy two positions for one salary. And btw, they all offer a fast-paced environment…

The only fast-paced thing is the delivery of your CAD files to your boss yesterday.

Nowadays the field of design has outgrown ID and placed it in the backseat. If industrial designers are required to develop silk screens and cabinet doors, I’m afraid these companies have been looking for the wrong candidates. What they need is an AutoCAD operator graduated from any college that offering technical training, or a technician specialized to operate a set of software/machines. Creativity is not required and is quasi-absent from these job ads.

However at the source of this snag there has been a change in academia where university courses begun introducing other elements inside ID programs. Environmental and health issues are part of the equation and suddenly the traditional development path of the industrial designer faces other inputs requiring other sets of skills, some of which the majority might not posses, so here’s the need for other type of designers to help the process. 

After 4 years of university and thousands in student loans, you can finally apply all your creativity in this aluminium frame…

In a short period of time from the beginning of the year 2000, ID lost relevance in the market founding itself replaced by others in the design field. Articles denouncing the peril of this happening were already emerging more than ten years ago, putting in the same basket similar careers at risk of disappearing like Chief Design Officer for example. Why? Because industrial design cannot exist in a vacuum, and the binary helix of form-function has departed from its mold.

Products of today have become so multilayered they demand other expertise to evolve, expertise the industrial designer must acquire to become hybrid and shed away it’s ‘industrial’ prefix in order to survive. Innovation is not anymore the traditional 6-face dice but a multi-faceted one that resembles more a dodecahedron than anything else.