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jungkookiebus · 5 years

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Birthday Present (m)

I just loved this performance therefore I like the gif :D

Genre: smut

Pairing: Reader x nonIdol!Jimin x nonIdol!Jungkook

Warnings: 18+, sexual content, oral (f & m receiving), double penetration, just a lot of sex really

Word count: 7.6k+

Happy birthday, @1luvpjm ;)

Jungkook was slow. He was testing the waters. He brought his lips down slowly to yours and you had forgotten how soft they were. After all these years, memories of him in that dark hallway came flooding back to you. You moaned into his kiss and he took the opportunity to grab your waist and pull you into him as he deepened the kiss. The only feeling you knew was Jimin; he was long, autumn evenings, sweaters too big for your arms, and snuggles under blankets while the snow fell outside. Jungkook was different; he was blazing summer days that burned into the night, sweat on your skin as you laid out in the August sun, and the rays of a sunset over sand.

“I hate this,” you murmur in a pout.

“Come on, babe, it’s just dinner.”

“With my parents,” you seethe.

It’s your birthday and this year your family was insistent that you had dinner at the fanciest restaurant they could get a VIP room for in your town. Last year you had forgone any celebrating with them to spend a weekend getaway with Jimin and if someone wanted to know if you regretted it, then they would have to get out their microscope; that is how much you actually did not care. Your family was conservative and notorious for conducting an inquisition each time you stepped foot into the house. That is why the moment you turned 18 you turned tail and ran as fast as you could in the opposite direction; to the other side of the country in fact. Two years later you met Jimin and after a year and a half of dating you moved in together. When your mother found out you swore you saw the mushroom cloud halfway across the country as her head exploded. Once they got it through their heads that you were staying together, their moods became an ambivalent lull. No amount of threatening worked because, after all, everything you had you paid for on your own. To have any financial ties to them would have proven disastrous so you worked your ass off since you moved out to make sure that never happened.

“It’ll be okay,” Jimin said as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“It will not, and you know it.”

“Look, you already know they’re going to question you, and probably me, but we’re prepared for it. It’s not like we’re going in blind, right?”

“I can deal with what they’ll throw at me, what I don’t want them doing is questioning you.”

“I can handle myself. I’ve done it before.” He cast a gentle smile at you as he continued to drive.

He was right. He had handled every question that your parents had ever given him with poise and grace. He’s currently in his residency at your local hospital with the hopes of becoming an ER doctor, so at least your parents weren’t giving him shit about that. It was the fact that Jimin grew up very poor that gave your parents a sense of entitlement. You had always hated that about them. You grew up rich, got everything you ever wanted, but the affection you ever received from your parents came in the form of money and privilege. So, when you met Jimin and felt actual, true love for the first time it almost sent you running, but his firm grip on your heart and your waist kept you in place. Four years later and you wouldn’t change anything about your relationship.

“I hope you’re right,” you mumble again.

“Stop pouting you’ll get wrinkles,” he laughed. You swatted him playfully on the shoulder. He managed to deflect your hand as you tried again, and he firmly grasped your wrist before moving to entwine your hands. “Besides, I have a surprise for you later.”

“Oh?”

He hummed lightly. “I hope you like it.”

“I’ll like anything you have for me.”

“Maybe.”

You were about to ask when his phone ringing interrupted your conversation.

“Ah,” he said as he looked at his phone. He swiped the screen and answered. “Hey, Jungkook.”

You watched his face to see if you could deduce what the conversation was about, but Jimin remained impassive as he muttered a few “mhms” and “yeps” here and there without saying a full sentence.

“What was that about?” you asked as he hung up. Jungkook has been friends with Jimin since early college. You had met Jungkook first at a bar that ended with you making out with him in a seedy hallway leading to the bathrooms. He introduced you to Jimin shortly after your steamy make-out session and the rest was history. Jungkook had never felt any ill will towards you once you started dating Jimin, thankfully, and you both became good friends instead. You knew deep down inside if you had not met Jimin you would have ended up dating Jungkook.

“He just needed to tell me something about work,” he said while putting his phone back into the console. Jungkook was currently working in orthopedics at the hospital but knew about the current drama happening in the ER. “Taehyung was fucking around again and got some files mixed up.”

Seemed likely enough. Your mind settled back on to the thousands of possible questions that your parents might ask you tonight.

“Quit thinking so hard,” Jimin said. He broke you from your reverie and you hadn’t realized that you had settled into a daze. “You also quit breathing.” He said it almost as if he were reading your mind.

You let out a long exhale and smiled. “It’s fine, everything is going to be fine.”

A few minutes later and you were pulling up outside of the restaurant. An attendee was already waiting curbside to take the keys and park the car.

“Good evening,” he smiled pleasantly. “Just take this tag with you and when you exit the restaurant give it to Ian over there at the podium; we’ll have your car pulled up right away.”

Jimin gave him a smile before sliding the tag into his pocket and taking your hand in his. You both started to walk to the doors, and you looked up to look at his profile. His jaw was set, and his eyes were bright, and you felt a sense of relief when you looked at him. When you were with him, anything was possible, and you could defeat the biggest demons in your life. At that moment he looked down at you and grinned the most breathtaking grin that didn’t quite make his eyes disappear so you could see them sparkle as he looked at you.

“I love you. We’re going to be okay,” he assured you as he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before opening the door for you.

A quick mention of your family’s name and the hostess was escorting you to the back of the already extremely ornate restaurant to an even more ornate private room in the back. You groaned inwardly as you saw not only your parents, but your grandparents and siblings as well. This was an unpleasant surprise. Your parents got the stick up their ass from your grandparents and, well, your siblings weren’t any better. Both had married into rich families themselves and held extremely profitable stock market jobs.

Jimin bowed low at the waist as you both entered. Your mother immediately stood up from her chair.

“Oh, _____, you look so beautiful!” she beamed, but behind her smile you saw the truth. Your dress didn’t come from the best boutique in town, nor was your hair done at a salon before you came. She was judging every bit of you in those few seconds. “And Jimin! You look as handsome as always!”

You watched as she took in his suit, which was not cheap, and pushed back black hair. He had at least run a brush through it before he left, but it definitely was not styled. You stared at the side of her face and almost dared her to say something. Pleasantries were exchanged amongst all of you and before you knew it you were seated in between Jimin and your youngest brother. To give your youngest brother some benefit, he also thought your parents were full of shit, but he 100% inherited their entitlement. You looked over at him as he gave you a tight smile as if saying, I don’t want to be here as much as you do.

“So, _______, what have you been up to as of late? How are your studies going? Still in English?”

And so it began. Your parents were furious when they found out you were majoring in Early Modern Literature. You had graduated with your Masters, and were currently working on your Doctorate, but that meant nothing to them; nothing good could come from being a Doctor of English.

“Yes, I’m currently writing my theses on the aesthetics of sin,” you said with confidence.

Jimin gave your knee an encouraging squeeze as your mom nearly spit her wine back into her glass.

She cleared her throat as she dabbed at her nearly perfect face. You saw through that mask of makeup and the way she was inside marred any beauty she once had.

“That’s lovely, dear,” she said with as much enthusiasm as an undertaker.

“What are you planning to do with it?” your grandfather piped in.

“I’ll teach on the University level, of course. If I stay there long enough, I can get tenured on to that staff and hopefully move on to full professorship.”

He huffed as if it were all a load of bull. You seethed on the inside and sensing it, Jimin gave your leg a squeeze before speaking. “She’s been working extremely hard on it. I’m proud of her.”

Your oldest brother rolled his eyes and you had to resist the urge not to launch yourself across the table and punch him in his face.

“How is your residency?” your father asked Jimin.

“It’s going well, sir. In a few months I’ll be finished up and I will begin my fellowship.”

“ER medicine if I remember correctly?”

“Correct, sir.”

Jimin was all politeness and formality when it came to your family. He didn’t want to give you any more reason for grief other than what your family would say.

“I’m sure you’ll find a good job here in Busan. They have many prestigious hospitals in the area.”

“That’s the plan, sir.”

“What do you think of ______ being a professor?” your older brother asked. You and your youngest brother visibly tensed at the question. If Jimin were uncomfortable he showed no signs.

“I think it’s wonderful. She’s pursuing her passion and doing it well.” He paused to smile down at you and give your hand a gentle squeeze. “I would never ask her to be any different.”

That’s when your mother asked the question that sent varying feelings flying under the door and out into the restaurant.

“Isn’t it a shame though? That she didn’t use her talents and knowledge on anything better?”

Your mouth gaped open so far that you were sure some of the bread you had just bitten into fell out. Your brother next to you breathed out fast in exasperation as if saying, Here we go. Your dad’s facial expression was placid as if saying he thought the same thing but wasn’t going to bring it up until after dessert.

“Mom…,” you said lowly. You were about to placate her, defend yourself, anything to have this dinner go as smooth as possible so you could run out at the end.

You felt the anger roiling off Jimin. His hand grew heated in yours and his jaw clenched imperceptibly as your gazed slowly dragged to his face.

“With all due respect, ma’am,” he emphasized the ma’am as if say he were still being polite while throwing a silent ‘fuck you’ in her face, “_____ is doing exactly what she set out to do. Her talents and her knowledge are being used exactly where they need to be and if you can’t deal with that then you can go fuck yourself.”

It was your turn to choke on the wine you were currently chugging out of your glass. Your brother next to you broke out into a chortled laugh he was momentarily trying to keep in. Your father stood from his chair.

“What did you just say?!” he shouted down to Jimin.

Jimin remained as passive as ever as he looked at your father.

“I said, you can go fuck yourself. All of you. You think you’re so…so entitled that you can sit here and berate your own child about her passions? Did you ever once think that the way you demean her could have some long-lasting effect on her life? Probably not!” he said throwing up his hands. “Because all you fucking do is think about yourself. I was going to sit here and be civilized.” He stood up from his chair in that moment. “But you know what? Civility went out the window the moment you let her go at 18 without a care in the world how she ended up. So, all of you,” he said as he gestured to everyone around the table, “can go fuck yourselves.”

You were still in your seat in shock with your brother openly laughing next to you now. Tears streamed down his face as he began to clap. “This is the best dinner I’ve been to in years.”

“Oh, shut up, Woosung, you’re just as bad as the rest of us,” your oldest brother spat at him.

Jimin grabbed your hand and quickly pulled you up from your chair and towards the door. Jimin paused with his hand on the handle before turning back around to the scene before him. Your dad was still standing, red in the face, your mother wasn’t much different; and Woosung was still laughing as he casually sipped his wine.

“And you might be her father, but when we’re at home she calls me daddy.”

Woosung spit the red wine he was drinking all over the tablecloth and your brother. Your father made a move towards Jimin, but your mom grabbed his sleeve before he could go any further.

Jimin quickly pulled you from the room, through the restaurant, and out the front door. He pulled the tag from his pocket and handed it to the attendant. “Make it quick, Ian.”

Seeing that Jimin was in no joking mood, he quickly sprinted off into the adjacent parking lot.

“What the fuck!?” you laughed out when you finally found your voice.

Jimin turned to you in surprise. You immediately squished both of his cheeks between your hands before you landed a wet kiss on his lips.

“That was the best birthday present I could ever ask for,” you said while drawing back from his face.

“It was hardly a present,” he mumbled through his squished lips, “and it needed to be said anyhow.”

“I love you, you know that right?”

For what felt like an eternity you gazed in one another’s eyes. A cool breeze lifted your hair and tickled the apples of Jimin’s cheeks and in that precious, single moment he saw the whole world in your eyes. Every hopeless thought he ever had was banished at that moment and he felt like his heart would flare inside his chest and burn out like a dying star. In your eyes he saw every good memory, every good morning kiss, fight in a rainstorm, and Sunday morning drives to the coast.

“I love you, _____,” he whispered.

Your reverie was broken when the attendant parked your car alongside the curb and stepped out.

“Your car, sir.”

“Thank you,” Jimin said as he handed the man a tip.

“Now let’s get you home for that surprise.”

“What is it exactly?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you. I need to text someone really quick.” He proceeded to send a quick text before buckling in and putting the car in drive. You were scarcely out of the driveway when you turned to see your family falling out of the front door in a heaving mass of angry faces and flailing limbs. Your father was shouting at your mother and your youngest brother was clearly sloshed with the amount of wine he had been chugging. Both grandparents looked as if they’d rather be anywhere else but there. With a silent laugh to yourself you turned back to Jimin to grab his hand for the duration of the ride home.

When you arrived home, you inhaled the familiar scent as soon as you crossed the threshold. All the soft lamps that you had left on before you had gone left the house in a warm, inviting glow. You quickly pulled off the heels you had dug out of the recesses of your closet and tossed them with the other shoes by the door.

“I’m starving,” you said as you made your way to the kitchen. “Should have saved your ‘fuck yous’ until at least after the appetizer.”

Jimin laughed as he came into the kitchen with you munching down on a granola bar you had found in the cabinet.

“The opportunity arose, and I took it, babe,” he said as he shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair.

“What’s the surprise?” you asked between chews. “Because I’m starting to think it was you going off on my parents.”

Jimin laughed nervously as he scratched the back of his head. You started to get nervous.

“Jimin?”

“Uh, remember when we talked about our fantasies?”

You wracked your brain to remember the entirety of that conversation. A lot of what you had discussed had been some run-of-the-mill stuff.

“Yea…”

“What was one of the things you wanted to try the most?”

“…a threesome?”

Jimin continued to rub his neck.

“…Jimin? What’s going on?”

“Do you trust me?”

You gulped loudly.

“I, uh, set up a surprise for you. Something that you wanted. I’m going to talk to you about it here because if you’re uncomfortable I want you to say so…”

All you could do was stare and hold your breath.

“I asked Jungkook if he’d like to join us.”

The granola wrapper fell from your hand as you choked on the dry fragments of the bar.

“Excuse me?” you said between tears.

“Oh god, this was a terrible idea,” he said putting his head in his hands.

“I didn’t say that, but why would you want to do this?”

“It’s something you wanted to do.”

“Yea but are you comfortable with this. Jungkook is your best friend.”

Jimin beamed at you then. “That’s why I asked him and not just some random stranger. I trust Jungkook and I trust you.”

“And he’s okay with this?”

“Of course. It goes without saying that he loves both of us. When I first asked him, he was a little surprised that I’d share.” You emphatically nodded at that; thinking the same thing. “But if this is something you want, I feel comfortable sharing you with Jungkook.”

“I’m only okay with this if you’re 100% sure this is something you can do,” you said finally.

“I’m more than okay, ______,” he said as he walked around the counter to you.

He lazily put his hands on your hips and brought his lips down to your ear.

“Besides,” he whispered, “I’ve always kinda wanted to see you get fucked by someone besides me.”

A shiver ran from the top of your head and all the way down to your toes. You let out a shaky breath as Jimin placed a kiss to the soft spot below your ear.

“So, if you’re okay with this, Jungkook is already here and waiting in our room.”

So that is why Jungkook called earlier and he was probably the one Jimin texted when your dinner was cut short. He took your hand and slowly led you down the hallway to your room. From your vantage point you saw that the soft bedside light was on inside. Nervousness laced through your veins along with a tinge of excitement. You had only ever known Jungkook as a friend except for when you first met. Ever since Jimin, you had never given Jungkook a second thought. Yes, he was overly attractive and so nice that he would give the clothes off his back, but as a sexual thought in your mind? No. You froze midway to the door. Jimin turned back to look at you.

“Is everything okay?” He took in the frightened look on your face.

“What if this changes things? Maybe we should ask a stranger.”

Jimin quickly gathered you into his arms. “Jungkook and I have already discussed this at length. If anything, I’m worried you might like him more.”

“That’s bullshit,” your words muffled in his chest. You felt him vibrate at his small chuckle.

“Good to know. Come on.” He led you the rest of the way to the door before slowly pushing it open.

Jungkook lounged nonchalantly on your shared bed as he scrolled through his phone.

“Shit hit the fan at dinner?” His eyebrows raised as he looked you both up and down. You appreciated his comfortable banter.

“You could say that,” Jimin said as he loosened the tie at his neck. “I’ll spare you the details for later. You’ll find it highly entertaining.”

You stood stock still and fiddled with the pocket on your dress.

“You okay, _____?” Jungkook asked.

Your nervous sigh came out a little stuttered. With that Jungkook rose from the bed and walked up to you. You side glanced nervously in Jimin’s direction, but he chuckled as he turned from you and continued to undo the cufflinks on his sleeve. Jungkook was standing before you casually dressed in a white t-shirt and dark jeans. His shoes were off. Were his boots at the door and you missed them? Jungkook raised his hand tentatively to place his open palm on your cheek.

“Relax, ______. We’ll take care of you,” he smiled.

You shouldn’t have been as turned on by that as you were. It would certainly take you a minute or two to warm up to this, however.

“I trust you,” you whispered. You licked your lips nervously and cast your eyes downward. When you looked back up again, he was staring at your now wet bottom lip.

“Can I kiss her, hyung?” he asked the question while still looking at you. You were too petrified to look elsewhere as you heard a distant ‘go ahead’ in answer.

You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer. Did this feel wrong? A nagging thought at the back of your mind made you think this was very wrong, but with Jimin in the room and approving pushed that thought farther back in your mind. Jungkook grabbed the hair close to your nape to pull your head back so he could deepen the kiss further. It was about that time that you felt a pair of familiar hands settle firmly on your hips. You felt Jimin’s plush lips kiss down the side of your neck and to your shoulder.

“Go gentle on her, Jungkook,” he said between kisses.

You broke away from the kiss long enough to say, “What if I don’t want him to be gentle?”

“I always knew you were a dirty slut,” Jungkook said as he pulled your hair back harder to place a bruising kiss right below your jawline.

“You don’t have to make the marks so obvious,” Jimin said sternly from behind you.

Jungkook almost looked sheepish when he looked at Jimin. “Sorry, hyung.”

Jimin grabbed the zipper at the back of your dress and slowly unzipped it.

“Watch as I undress her, Kook,” he said to the man in front of him.

Jungkook took a step back to admire what Jimin was doing. You quickly cast your eyes downward as his hands moved to your shoulders to push the dress off. He placed his hand under your chin to bring your face back up.

“Look at Kook, baby.”

Your eyes connected with Jungkook’s and within them you saw a thousand fires; his pupils were blown wide with lust as he gazed at you. He sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth as Jimin slowly started to slide your dress off your shoulders. You instinctively rubbed your thighs together when a moan came out of both men at what you had on underneath. You thanked the heavens above for having selected actual lingerie when you got dressed today. The soft pink lace of your bra was slowly revealed and as Jimin pulled it lower they caught glimpse of the matching panties and garters that held your stockings.

“God baby, did you know about this surprise after all?” Jimin moaned as he pulled one of the garter straps and let it snap back against your skin.

Your breath hitched as he palmed your ass through the panties. “N-no.”

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook breathed out. His cock was now very prominent in his tight jeans.

“Let’s put on a show for him, shall we?” Jimin said as his left arm came across your chest and held you firmly against him.

He slowly let his right hand graze over your breast, sending goosebumps in its wake, and making you stand out against the thin, fabric lace. A small moan escaped you as he let his fingers graze the skin of your stomach and to the waistband of your panties. You pushed your thighs together as he began to slide his hand underneath.

“Uh-uh, baby. Spread ‘em,” Jimin breathed into your neck.

Your body obeyed instantly. Jimin moaned in approval as he moved his hand to the outside of your panties instead. He slowly rubbed his hand over you as you whimpered.

“What do you want?” Jimin asked.

A sudden thought flashed in your mind. “I want Jungkook to control your movements.”

You looked across to Jungkook who cocked an eyebrow as he palmed himself over his pants. Before you could blink, he was unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out while sitting on the edge of the bed. He began stroking himself as he said ‘gladly’ in such a dark tone you were practically soaking your panties.

“Okay, Kook, you’re in charge now,” Jimin said as he stopped all movement.

“Hold her still, but play with her nipples first,” Jungkook said. You watched him languidly stroke himself as he watched you through hooded eyes.

Jimin brought his right hand up again to tweak the nearest nipple through the fabric of your bra. You arched your back into his touch when he slid the right side of your bra down to expose your skin to the air. Your nipples hardened even more as the cool air skated across your chest.

“Take her bra off.”

Jimin knew this bra, thankfully, as he reached over and undid the front clasp. He took his hand away momentarily to slide it off your shoulders and discarded it to the side before pulling you flush to his chest again.

“Such beautiful tits. No one wonder you’ve kept her around for so long, Chim.”

“She has other beautiful assets as well, Jungkook,” he said pointedly while placing a kiss to your shoulder. He had meant it to sound harsh, but it didn’t come out that way as he was suddenly distracted by your now bare chest.

“I’m only kidding. I know she’s perfect in many ways.”

“You almost sound like you’re in love with her, Kook.”

“I was the first person to make out with her if we’re on the subject of people in this room.”

“Watch yourself,” Jimin said lowly.

You wanted to be touched. Badly. “Okay, boys, let’s get back to the matter at hand.”

“So needy,” Jungkook said from his place on the bed. “Play with her tits some more.”

This time Jimin used both of his hands on you. He kneaded both in his hands before pinching and pulling harshly on your nipples. You cried out as you breathed heavily against Jimin’s hands.

“Do you like that ______?” Jungkook asked.

All you could do was let out a soft moan as Jimin continued to assault your breasts.

“Answer him,” Jimin said as he delivered a particularly harsh twist to one of your nipples.

“Ah, fuck! Yes! I love it!”

“Fuck, hyung. Touch her pussy.”

You sighed heavily. This is exactly what you wanted. Chills followed Jimin’s touch as he let hand his trail down your stomach once more and to the thin lace covering you. He took a moment to undo the straps of the garters, slide your panties down to your ankles and toss them aside with your bra. He made his way back up to touch you once again. Shivers ran through your body in anticipation.

“Don’t tease her,” Jungkook said darkly.

“As you wish,” Jimin murmured.

He bit harshly into your shoulder as he brought his fingers to your clit and started to rub circles on you. Jimin felt like the was trying to tell an entire story in that moment. His left arm was braced firmly across your chest as he held on tightly to your right shoulder. You felt his mouth, open, and breathing hotly against the side of your face as his ministrations on your clit sped up. Your head was thrown back against his shoulder as his fingers deftly brought you to the place only Jimin could take you.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathed against your cheek.

“Fuuuck, Jimin.”

You dared to look at Jungkook in that moment. Sweat had his hair stuck to his forehead as he furiously pumped his cock at the sight of you coming undone under Jimin’s touch.

“God, Kook, I think you made her more wet. If that were even possible.”

Jimin began placing hot kisses along your neck and shoulders. He was soon biting harsh bruises into the junction between the two that left you writhing even more. His left hand was surely leaving a bruise at this point with the way he was holding you firmly against him while you continued to lose function of your legs.

“I want to taste her.”

“Do you want that, baby?” Jimin whispered hotly in your ear.

“God, yes. I want it so bad, Jimin.”

Jimin lifted his hand away from you and brought his fingers to your mouth.

“Open up.”

He slowly slid two fingers in your mouth. You took your time wrapping your lips around his fingers tightly before sucking them both clean; his fingers coming out of your mouth with an audible pop. Jungkook was removing all his clothing when Jimin let go of you.

“Go lay on the bed,” Jimin demanded in an even tone.

You lay horizontally on the bed as Jungkook loomed over you looking at you hungrily while Jimin undressed elsewhere in the room. A small yelp escaped you as Jimin grabbed you underneath your arms and pulled you to the edge of the bed, effectively hanging your head off the edge and face to face with his cock. Below, you felt Jungkook crawling onto the bed as he hooked his arms around your thighs. You felt his hot breath on your skin as he lightly kissed the inside of your thigh and made his way to where you wanted him the most.

“Jungkook, please,” you whimpered.

“What do you want him to do?” Jimin whispered from above you.

“I want him to fuck me with his mouth.”

“You heard the lady.”

“And who am I to deny her?” Jungkook asked the rhetorical question before licking hole to clit.

Your body involuntarily shook when his tongue started to make deft circles around your clit. His fingers tightened their grip on the junction between your hips and thighs as he brought his face deeper into your pussy, bringing you to new heights. You could have sworn he was composing a song with the way his mouth was moving on you. Jimin was no stranger to eating you out, and he did it well, but where Jimin was slow and thoughtful, Jungkook was trying to bring you to the edge as fast as possible. At that moment Jimin took that opportunity to tap your lips.

“Open up,” he said, cock already in hand. From your current position he was able to slip his cock easily into your mouth, swallowing as he hit the back of your throat.

“God dammit if you swallow like that I’m going to cum here and now.”

Below you, Jungkook slid two fingers inside of you and immediately curved them upwards, thrusting them in perfect timing with his tongue. You let a long, drawn out moan around Jimin’s cock. His body jerked in reaction and he caught himself by his hands on either side of your torso.

“Can I fuck your mouth?” he asked as he looked below even though you were unable to see him. You tapped his thigh twice to give him the go ahead. He continued looking so that he could see his cock disappearing into your mouth as he started to slowly thrust into your mouth. One look at Jungkook, however, had his pace in your mouth speeding up.

“Fuck, baby, do you know how hot it is to see Jungkook eating you out?” You moaned around his cock as he continued to let it hit the back of your throat with each thrust. “How does she taste?”

Jungkook looked as equally as fucked out when took a deep inhale of air that he wasn’t aware he was depriving himself of when he pulled off you enough to answer Jimin.

“The sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever tasted.” His face glistened with how wet you were. He didn’t wait a second beat before he was diving back in between your legs. You could feel in the pit of your stomach that you were going to cum soon; your thighs tensed around Jungkook’s head as he continued his ministrations on your now engorged clit, his fingers still thrusting inside of you.

Jimin pulled out of you and kneeled on the floor in front of your face. Your throat was on fire and your face was wet where drool had started to collect and slide out of the corners of your mouth. He took both thumbs to wipe the spit from your mouth but left the tears that continued to stream out of the corners of your eyes. You could cry from how good Jungkook was making you feel.

“Are you going to cum in Jungkook’s mouth baby?”

“Oh god I want to so bad, Jimin,” you moaned.

“Are you going to let her cum, Kook?”

Jungkook moaned in agreement and your back arched as the vibrations pulsed across your clit.

Jimin brought his face to yours. “Look at me.”

Through your lust filled haze you managed to open your eyes and look into his.

“Concentrate on Kook and my words, baby.”

Your mouth fell open in a silent consent.

“Does his mouth feel good on you? I want you to cum for both of us, _____, then we’re both going to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Would you like that, baby? Have both of our cocks inside of you? I bet you would, wouldn’t you? You’re such a cockslut.”

Your orgasm was fast approaching and Jungkook could tell as you continued to arch your back and hold it there in a rigid tension of muscles as you willed your release to fall over the edge. He gave a few harsh sucks to your clit before you were cumming so hard your eyes were rolling back into your head. You heard Jungkook’s drawn out moan as you finally reached your high. Jimin caught your moans with his mouth as he brought it down on yours to kiss you firmly as you came in Jungkook’s mouth. He slowly pulled his fingers from you and you could hear as he sucked each one clean.

“God that was fucking hot,” he said as he up righted himself on the bed.

You felt yourself being jerked in the other direction as Jungkook wrapped his hands around your calves.

“Sorry, Chim, I gotta feel her real quick.”

Before you knew it, he was thrusting his cock to the hilt inside of you. You cried out in pain, pleasure, and overstimulation. He had barely given you enough time to come down from your orgasm when he started to thrust inside of you harshly.

“Yes, you’re just as fucking tight around my cock as I imagined.”

You looked up to appreciate the sheen of sweat that was covering Jungkook’s body now. In the low lights of the room, it cast an attractive highlight to every muscle he had. His mouth hung open as he held one of your legs to his chest and watched his cock disappear inside of you. Surprise overtook you when he pulled out, his cock red and throbbing.

“I just wanted to feel that for a minute,” he breathed out in a small laugh.

Jimin got onto the bed and propped himself against the pillows. “She feels great, huh?”

“Better than expected.”

“Hey,” you laughed, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” Jungkook said as he reached to help you into a sitting position.

“Come here, ______,” Jimin said tapping in the general area of his lap. “I want you to ride me.”

You got up shakily and as well as your legs would carry you across the bed as you crawled to him.

“Are you okay?” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

“Great,” you smiled as you briefly kissed him. You positioned yourself above his cock, holding it firmly in your hand before sinking down on him. His head fell back against the headboard as he bottomed out inside of you. A small sigh escaped your lips at the familiar feeling of him. Jimin was home; Jimin was love and it was a completely different feeling from Jungkook. Knowing exactly what you and Jimin both liked, you leaned back carefully, placing both hands on his thighs before setting a rhythm with your hips. He kept a firm grasp on your hips to help you bounce on his cock.

“You look so fucking good like this, baby.”

“Yea? You like it when I fuck you like this?” You let your head fall to the side as you looked for Jungkook. He was stroking himself again as he watched you ride Jimin. “I want you to kiss me again, Jungkook.”

Jungkook didn’t even hesitate as he brought is hand to the back of your head and melded his lips with yours. You were both tongue and teeth as he held you there while still rubbing his cock.

Jungkook pulled away from you after a moment. “I have kind of a weird question.”

You slowed your hips on Jimin and in turn Jimin looked at Jungkook inquisitively.

“Do you like anal?”

You laughed out loud and Jimin’s eyes disappeared in a full face smile.

“She fucking loves anal, dude.”

Jungkook outwardly moaned. “Fuck I’m so glad I agreed to this.”

“Look in the bedside drawer,” Jimin said as he motioned his head towards it. Jungkook pulled it open and saw what Jimin must have been talking about. He pulled the lube out and tossed it onto the bed beside you.

Jimin shimmied himself down off the pillows, taking you with him. He pulled you to his chest to kiss you as passionately as possible, but it ended up being a messy, lust filled kiss that found no cadence. You rocked your hips slowly into him as you kissed along his jaw and then sucked his earlobe between your teeth. You felt your ass being spread in Jungkook’s firm hands.

“Such a pretty ass.”

You gasped when you felt his tongue on you. Slow and tentative he pushed it inside. When you didn’t resist or object, he continued a little more aggressively, especially when you moaned in contentment. This man could eat ass as well as he could eat pussy. Before you could get too into it, he was pulling away again. You heard the distinctive pop of lube being opened then the cool touch of Jungkook’s finger along the rim. He experimentally pushed one finger in. Your head came up a fraction from Jimin as you moaned.

“Having both holes filled is going to be the best feeling,” you groaned.

“I’m having the hardest time not fucking you into next week right now,” Jimin said. “Stop talking like that and let Kook prep you.”

“Yes, sir,” you said with a slight smirk.

Jungkook took that opportunity to bring his hand down hard on your ass cheek.

“Fuck!” you yelled.

“Listen to Jimin, _____.”

More lube was placed on you as he added another finger. He slowly moved them in and out, letting you adjust to the intrusion. He scissored them slightly, creating room for himself. You tried to stifle your moans but were unsuccessful as Jimin started placing small, kitten kisses along your jaw and neck.

“You keep clenching around me. It’s so hard for me not to fucking ruin you with my cock. I want to fuck you so badly that you’d be crying loud enough for the neighbors to hear.”

Jungkook added a third finger.

“And then every time they see you in the hallway all they’ll be able to think about is how you love to be fucked by multiple cocks.”

Jungkook’s thrusts were becoming harsher, but all you could feel was pleasure.

“I’m ready, Jungkook,” you breathed out.

His fingers disappeared and you felt the bed dip low as he kneeled behind you. The tip of his cock was at your ass and you arched your back even more to ease his entrance. Slowly, he slid inside inch by inch until he was bottomed out inside of you. All three of you let out a collective moan. Jimin started to move first, setting a rhythm before Jungkook joined him. Together, they set a punishing rhythm that had you writhing between them. Before long, you were all limbs, sweat, and breaths between heartbeats. Jungkook was leaning over you, raining kisses along your shoulders, while Jimin’s fingers bruised into you hips. Both were whispering praises to you that fell on deaf ears for everyone. You were one, but separated, each feeling their own sensation in the moment. The room was hot and heavy, the smell of sex lingered in your nose. The hot drip of Jungkook’s sweat fell between your shoulder blades and ran down your back, intermingling with your own. Jimin’s plush, pillow lips were opened in ecstasy as he fucked up into you. It was all so much, and you felt your next orgasm mounting again.

“She’s going to cum soon,” Jimin choked out. He knew your body and he knew it well. You had no voice any more; you were doing well to stay conscious. “When she cums, that’s it. She won’t be able to go much longer.”

“Good thing I’m close,” you heard Jungkook grunt out behind you.

A few more thrusts from both and your vision blacked out as your orgasm hit in one heavy wave.

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered as your orgasm increased tenfold with both still thrusting inside of you.

“Dammit.” You felt Jungkook pull out of you and moments later warm cum landed on your ass. He groaned loudly behind you as his forehead came to rest on the middle of your back.

“Move, Kook,” you heard Jimin growl.

He was fast. As soon as Jungkook was out of the way Jimin had you thrown onto your back and was pounding into you so hard you were sure you blacked out again. Before too long you felt him cum inside of you before he released his full body weight on top of you.

Your ears roared with the silence that now filled the room. The only sounds were heavy breathing that slacked into shorter breaths as everyone collected themselves. Jimin groaned as he pulled out of you and flopped to the side. Jungkook was a hand’s width away from you on the other side.

“Well,” Jungkook broke the silence. “I can definitively say this is the most fun I’ve had in a while…and the best sex.”

You snorted as Jimin laughed.

“Don’t get used to it, buddy,” Jimin said as he laid his arm across his eyes.

“Damn.”

“That…was a great birthday present. Really. Thanks to both of you,” you said when you were finally able to catch your breath. “I’m just sad that I need to change these sheets before I can go to sleep.”

Both men laughed out loud.

“I’m staying here, right?” Jungkook asked.

“Yea, I fixed the spare up for you earlier,” Jimin answered. “You know where everything is.”

Jungkook rolled over to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. “Happy birthday, ______.”

You looked over to see him smiling brightly. “Thank you, Jungkook.” You placed your palm on his cheek affectionately before he rolled off the bed, gathered his clothes and went to the door.

“See you guys in the morning.”

“G’night, Kook,” Jimin yawned next to you.

Once he was gone from the room you rolled over to Jimin and placed your arm over his waist.

“I love you.”

His lifted his arm from his eyes to look at you. “I love you, too. Enjoyed yourself?”

“Very much.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, I know,” you laughed.

The next morning both men woke up early, struggling to find a way to hide a ring in a stack of pancakes.

Please do not repost.

#bts #bts smut #bts au #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts jimin #bts jungkook #jimin #jungkook #jimin x reader x jungkook #reader insert #nonidol!jungkook #nonidol!jimin

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vox · 7 years

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My immigrant family achieved the American dream. Then I started to question it.

In summer 2007, I returned home from my freshman year at Brown University to the new house my family had just bought in Florida. It had a two-car garage. It had a pool. I was on track to becoming an Ivy League graduate, with opportunities no one else in my family had ever experienced. I stood in the middle of this house and burst into tears. I thought: We’ve made it.

That moment encapsulated what I had always thought of the “American dream.” My parents had come to this country from Mexico and Ecuador more than 30 years before, seeking better opportunities for themselves. They worked and saved for years to ensure my two brothers and I could receive a good education and a solid financial foundation as adults. Though I can’t remember them explaining the American dream to me explicitly, the messaging I had received by growing up in the United States made me know that coming home from my first semester at a prestigious university to a new house meant we had achieved it.

And yet, now six years out of college and nearly 10 years past that moment, I’ve begun questioning things I hadn’t before: Why did I “make it” while so many others haven’t? Was this conventional version of making it what I actually wanted? I’ve begun to realize that our society’s definition of making it comes with its own set of limitations and does not necessarily guarantee all that I originally assumed came with the American dream package.

I interviewed several friends from immigrant backgrounds who had also reflected on these questions after achieving the traditional definition of success in the United States. Looking back, there were several things we misunderstood about the American dream. Here are a few:

1) The American dream isn’t the result of hard work. It’s the result of hard work, luck, and opportunity.

Looking back, I can’t discount the sacrifices my family made to get where we are today. But I also can’t discount specific moments we had working in our favor. One example: my second-grade teacher, Ms. Weiland. A few months into the year, Ms. Weiland informed my parents about our school’s gifted program. Students tracked into this program in elementary school would usually end up in honors and Advanced Placement classes in high school — classes necessary for gaining admission into prestigious colleges.

My parents, unfamiliar with our education system, didn’t understand any of this. But Ms. Weiland went out of her way to explain it to them. She also persuaded school administrators to test me for entrance into the program, and with her support, I eventually earned a spot.

It’s not an exaggeration to say that Ms. Weiland’s persistence ultimately influenced my acceptance into Brown University. No matter how hard I worked or what grades I received, without gifted placement I could never have reached the academic classes necessary for an Ivy League school. Without that first opportunity given to me by Ms. Weiland, my entire educational trajectory would have changed.

The philosopher Seneca said, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” But in the United States, too often people work hard every day, and yet never receive the opportunities that I did — an opportunity as simple as a teacher advocating on their behalf. Statistically, students of color remain consistently undiscovered by teachers who often, intentionally or not, choose mostly white, high-income students to enter advanced or “gifted” programs, regardless of their qualifications. Upon entering college, I met several students from across the country who also remained stuck within their education system until a teacher helped them find a way out.

Research has proved that these inconsistencies in opportunity exist in almost every aspect of American life. Your race can determine whether you interact with police, whether you are allowed to buy a house, and even whether your doctor believes you are really in pain. Your gender can determine whether you receive funding for your startup or whether your attempts at professional networking are effective. Your "foreign-sounding" name can determine whether someone considers you qualified for a job. Your family’s income can determine the quality of your public school or your odds that your entrepreneurial project succeeds.

These opportunities make a difference. They have created a society where most every American is working hard and yet only a small segment are actually moving forward. Knowing all this, I am no longer naive enough to believe the American dream is possible for everyone who attempts it. The United States doesn’t lack people trying. What it lacks is an equal playing field of opportunity.

2) Accomplishing the American dream can be socially alienating

Throughout my life, my family and I knew this uncomfortable truth: To better our future, we would have to enter spaces that felt culturally and racially unfamiliar to us. When I was 4 years old, my parents moved our family to a predominantly white part of town, so I could attend the county’s best public schools. I was often one of the only students of color in my gifted and honors programs. This trend continued in college and afterward: As an English major, I was often the only person of color in my literature and creative writing classes. As a teacher, I was often one of few teachers of color at my school or in my teacher training programs.

While attending Brown, a student of color once told me: “Our education is really just a part of our gradual ascension into whiteness.” At the time I didn’t want to believe him, but I came to understand what he meant: Often, the unexpected price for academic success is cultural abandonment.

In a piece for the New York Times, Vicki Madden described how education can create this “tug of war in [your] soul”:

To stay four years and graduate, students have to come to terms with the unspoken transaction: exchanging your old world for a new world, one that doesn’t seem to value where you came from. … I was keen to exchange my Western hardscrabble life for the chance to be a New York City middle-class museum-goer. I’ve paid a price in estrangement from my own people, but I was willing. Not every 18-year-old will make that same choice, especially when race is factored in as well as class.

So many times throughout my life, I’ve come home from classes, sleepovers, dinner parties, and happy hours feeling the heaviness of this exchange. I’ve had to Google cultural symbols I hadn’t understood in these conversations (What is “Harper’s”? What is “après-ski”?). At the same time, I remember using academia jargon my family couldn’t understand either. At a Christmas party, a friend called me out for using “those big Ivy League words” in a conversation. My parents had trouble understanding how independent my lifestyle had become and kept remarking on how much I had changed. Studying abroad, moving across the country for internships, living alone far away from family after graduating — these were not choices my Latin American parents had seen many women make.

An official from Brown told the Boston Globe that similar dynamics existed with many first-generation college students she worked with: “Often, [these students] come to college thinking that they want to return home to their communities. But an Ivy League education puts them in a different place — their language is different, their appearance is different, and they don’t fit in at home anymore, either.”

A Haitian-American friend of mine from college agreed: “After going to college, interacting with family members becomes a conflicted zone. Now you’re the Ivy League cousin who speaks a certain way, and does things others don’t understand. It changes the dynamic in your family entirely.”

A Latina friend of mine from Oakland felt this when she got accepted to the University of Southern California. She was the first person from her to family to leave home to attend college, and her conservative extended family criticized her for leaving home before marriage.

“One night they sat me down, told me my conduct was shameful and was staining the reputation of the family,” she told me, “My family thought a woman leaving home had more to do with her promiscuity than her desire for an education. They told me, ‘You’re just going to Los Angeles so you can have the freedom to be with whatever guy you want.’ When I think about what was most hard about college, it wasn’t the academics. It was dealing with my family’s disapproval of my life.”

We don’t acknowledge that too often, achievement in the United States means this gradual isolation from the people we love most. By simply striving toward American success, many feel forced to make to make that choice.

3) The American dream makes us focus single-mindedly on wealth and prestige

When I spoke to an Asian-American friend from college, he told me, “In the Asian New Jersey community I grew up in, I was surrounded by parents and friends whose mentality was to get high SAT scores, go to a top college, and major in medicine, law, or investment banking. No one thought outside these rigid tracks.” When he entered Brown, he followed these expectations by starting as a premed, then switching his major to economics.

This pattern is common in the Ivy League: Studies show that Ivy League graduates gravitate toward jobs with high salaries or prestige to justify the work and money we put into obtaining an elite degree. As a child of immigrants, there’s even more pressure to believe this is the only choice.

Of course, financial considerations are necessary for survival in our society. And it’s healthy to consider wealth and prestige when making life decisions, particularly for those who come from backgrounds with less privilege. But to what extent has this concern become an unhealthy obsession? For those who have the privilege of living a life based on a different set of values, to what extent has the American dream mindset limited our idea of success?

The Harvard Business Review reported that over time, people from past generations have begun to redefine success. As they got older, factors like “family happiness,” “relationships,” “balancing life and work,” and “community service” became more important than job titles and salaries. The report quoted a man in his 50s who said he used to define success as “becoming a highly paid CEO.” Now he defines it as “striking a balance between work and family and giving back to society.”

While I spent high school and college focusing on achieving an Ivy League degree, and a prestigious job title afterward, I didn’t think about how other values mattered in my own notions of success. But after I took a “gap year” at 24 to travel, I realized that the way I’d defined the American dream was incomplete: It was not only about getting an education and a good job but also thinking about how my career choices contributed to my overall well-being. And it was about gaining experiences aside from my career, like travel. It was about making room for things like creativity, spirituality, and adventure when making important decisions in my life.

Courtney E. Martin addressed this in her TED talk called “The New Better Off,” where she said: “The biggest danger is not failing to achieve the American dream. The biggest danger is achieving a dream that you don't actually believe in.”

Those realizations ultimately led me to pursue my current work as a travel writer. Whenever I have the privilege to do so, I attempt what Martin calls “the harder, more interesting thing”: to “compose a life where what you do every single day, the people you give your best love and ingenuity and energy to, aligns as closely as possible with what you believe.”

4) Even if you achieve the American dream, that doesn’t necessarily mean other Americans will accept you

A few years ago, I was working on my laptop in a hotel lobby, waiting for reception to process my booking. I wore leather boots, jeans, and a peacoat. A guest of the hotel approached me and began shouting in slow English (as if I couldn’t understand otherwise) that he needed me to clean his room. I was 25, had an Ivy League degree, and had completed one of the most competitive programs for college graduates in the country. And yet still I was being confused for the maid.

I realized then that no matter how hard I played by the rules, some people would never see me as a person of academic and professional success. This, perhaps, is the most psychologically disheartening part of the American dream: Achieving it doesn’t necessarily mean we can “transcend” racial stereotypes about who we are.

It just takes one look at the rhetoric by current politicians to know that as first-generation Americans, we are still not seen as “American” as others. As so many cases have illustrated recently, no matter how much we focus on proving them wrong, negative perceptions from others will continue to challenge our sense of self-worth.

For black immigrants or children of immigrants, this exclusionary messaging is even more obvious. Kari Mugo, a writer who immigrated to the US from Kenya when she was 18, expressed to me the disappointment she has felt trying to feel welcomed here: “It’s really hard to make an argument for a place that doesn’t want you, and shows that every single day. It’s been 12 years since I came here, and each year I’m growing more and more disillusioned.”

I still cherish my college years, and still feel immensely proud to call myself an Ivy League graduate. I am humbled by my parents’ sacrifices that allowed me to live the comparatively privileged life I’ve had. I acknowledge that it is in part because of this privilege that I can offer a critique of the United States in the first place. My parents and other immigrant families who focused only on survival didn’t have the luxury of being critical.

Yet having that luxury, I think it’s important to vocalize that in the United States, living the dream is far more nuanced than we often make others believe. As Mugo told me, “My friends back in Kenya always receive the message that America is so great. But I always wonder why we don’t ever tell the people back home what it’s really like. We always give off the illusion that everything is fine, without also acknowledging the many ways life here is really, really hard.”

I deeply respect the choices my parents made, and I’m deeply grateful for the opportunities the United States provided. But at this point in my family’s journey, I am curious to see what happens when we begin exploring a different dream.

Amanda Machado is a writer, editor, content strategist, and facilitator who works with publications and nonprofits around the world. You can learn more about her work at her website.

#first person #essay #writing #college #American dream #immigration #politics #policy

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newstfionline · 7 years

Text

Elitists, crybabies and junky degrees

By Kevin Sullivan, Mary Jordan, Washington Post, November 25, 2017

COCHISE, Arizona--Frank Antenori shot the head off a rattlesnake at his back door last summer--a deadeye pistol blast from 20 feet. No college professor taught him that. The U.S. Army trained him, as a marksman and a medic, on the “two-way rifle range” of Afghanistan and Iraq.

Useful skills. Smart return on taxpayers’ investment. Not like the waste he sees at too many colleges and universities, where he says liberal professors teach “ridiculous” classes and indoctrinate students “who hang out and protest all day long and cry on our dime.”

“Why does a kid go to a major university these days?” said Antenori, 51, a former Green Beret who served in the Arizona state legislature. “A lot of Republicans would say they go there to get brainwashed and learn how to become activists and basically go out in the world and cause trouble.”

Antenori is part of an increasingly vocal campaign to transform higher education in America. Though U.S. universities are envied around the world, he and other conservatives want to reduce the flow of government cash to what they see as elitist, politically correct institutions that often fail to provide practical skills for the job market.

To the alarm of many educators, nearly every state has cut funding to public colleges and universities since the 2008 financial crisis. Adjusted for inflation, states spent $5.7 billion less on public higher education last year than in 2008, even though they were educating more than 800,000 additional students, according to the State Higher Education Executive Officers Association.

In Arizona, which has had a Republican governor and legislature since 2009, lawmakers have cut spending for higher education by 54 percent since 2008; the state now spends $3,500 less per year on every student, according to the progressive Center on Budget and Policy Priorities. Tuition has soared, forcing students to shoulder more of the cost of their degrees.

Meanwhile, public schools in Arizona and across the nation are welcoming private donors, including the conservative Koch brothers. In nearly every state, the Charles Koch Foundation funds generally conservative-leaning scholars and programs in politics, economics, law and other subjects. John Hardin, the foundation’s director of university relations, said its giving has tripled from about $14 million in 2011 to $44 million in 2015 as the foundation aims to “diversify the conversation” on campus.

People across the ideological spectrum are worried about the cost of college, skyrocketing debt from student loans and rising inequality in access to quality degrees. Educators fear the drop in government spending is making schools harder to afford for low- and middle-income students.

State lawmakers blame the cuts on falling tax revenue during the recession; rising costs of other obligations, especially Medicaid and prisons; and the need to balance their budgets. But even as prosperity has returned to many states, there is a growing partisan divide over how much to spend on higher education. Education advocates worry that conservative disdain threatens to undermine universities.

In July, a Pew Research Center study found that 58 percent of Republicans and GOP-leaning independents believe colleges and universities have a negative effect “on the way things are going in the country,” up from 37 percent two years ago. Among Democrats, by contrast, 72 percent said they have a positive impact.

A Gallup poll in August found that a third of Republicans had confidence in universities, which they viewed as too liberal or political. Other studies show that overwhelming numbers of white working-class men do not believe a college degree is worth the cost.

A single year at many private universities costs more than the median U.S. household income of $59,000. Though most students receive financial aid, a four-year degree can cost more than a quarter-million dollars. Tuition at public universities has soared, too, and a degree can easily cost more than $100,000.

It’s not just the money: Dozens of the most prestigious schools reject more than 80 percent of applicants, and the admissions system often favors the wealthy and connected.

“The new upper class has nothing to do with money. It has to do with where you were educated,” said Arizona State University President Michael Crow, who is pushing to make quality degrees more accessible to lower-income students.

Antenori views former president Barack Obama, a Harvard-educated lawyer who taught at the University of Chicago Law School, as the embodiment of the liberal establishment. Antenori said liberal elites with fancy degrees who have been running Washington for so long have forgotten those who think differently.

“If you don’t do everything that their definition of society is, you’re somehow a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal cave man,” Antenori said.

Antenori was drawn to Trump, he said, because he was the “reverse of Obama,” an “anti-politically correct guy” whose attitude toward the status quo is “change it, fix it, get rid of it, crush it, slash it.”

Even though Trump boasts of his Ivy League degree from the University of Pennsylvania, Antenori said he “had a different air about him.” Unlike Obama, Trump has not emphasized the importance of Americans going to college.

During the campaign, Trump said many colleges “have gone crazy” and that young people were “choking on debt.” He criticized universities for getting “so much money from the government” while “raising their fees to the point that’s ridiculous.”

Though Trump has largely ignored higher education during his first year in office, his son Donald Trump Jr. recently excoriated universities during a speech in Texas, saying that many universities offer Americans a raw deal: “We’ll take $200,000 of your money; in exchange, we’ll train your children to hate our country. ... We’ll make them unemployable by teaching them courses in zombie studies, underwater basket weaving and, my personal favorite, tree climbing.”

Antenori, who served as a delegate for Trump at the 2016 National Republican Convention, loves that kind of talk.

Finally, he said, people in power understand how he feels.

Antenori was born in Scranton, Pa., and dreamed of playing football at Pennsylvania State University. But he started partying and his grades slipped in his senior year of high school. His father balked at paying for college.

“I’m not paying for C’s,” Antenori recalled his father saying. “You want to go? You pay for it.”

So at 17, he joined the Army, which promised him $20,000 toward college if he enlisted for three years. He stayed on, joined the Green Berets and became a medic. He didn’t get around to college until he was 32.

Still on active duty, he enrolled in a pre-med program at Campbell University in North Carolina, a Baptist school a few miles from Fort Bragg. He earned a bachelor’s degree taking classes four nights a week and on weekends.

After he retired from the Army in 2004, he moved to Tucson, where he works as a program manager for a major defense contractor. Earlier this year he completed an online MBA through Grand Canyon University, a for-profit Christian school in Phoenix.

“I got functional degrees that helped me move up in the corporate world,” he said, crunching through the parched grass on his 40-acre ranch in the southeastern Arizona desert.

Antenori said many young people would be better off attending more affordable two-year community colleges that teach useful skills and turn out firefighters, electricians and others. Obama promoted that same idea, launching new efforts to boost community college and workplace training. But Antenori said he believes Obama pushed young people too hard toward four-year degrees.

“The establishment has created this thing that if you don’t go to college, you’re somehow not equal to someone else who did,” Antenori said, sitting with his wife, Lesley, at the dining room table in their modest one-story ranch house.

Antenori said when he was in high school in the 1980s, students were directed toward college or vocational training depending on their abilities.

“The mind-set now is that everybody is going to be a doctor,” he said. “Instead of telling a kid whose art sucks, ‘You’re a crappy artist,’ they say, ‘Go follow your dream.’”

The Antenoris did not steer their two sons, 23 and 22, toward college, and neither went. One helps at home on the ranch, and the other is enlisted in the Army.

Antenori is just as happy his sons aren’t hanging out with the “weirdos” he reads about on Campus Reform, a conservative website with a network of college reporters whose stated mission is to expose “liberal bias and abuse on America’s campuses.”

In a sign of the intensely partisan climate on campus, its recent headlines include: “Prof wants ‘body size’ added to diversity curricula,” “Students cover free speech wall with vulgar anti-Trump graffiti” and “College Dems leader resigns after declaring hatred of white men.”

The federal government spends $30 billion a year on Pell grants, which help lower-income students, including a large number of minorities, attend college. But studies show that half of Pell grant recipients drop out before earning a degree.

The overall college dropout rate is also high. Only 59 percent of students who start at four-year institutions graduate within six years, according to the National Center for Education Statistics. That leaves millions with debt but no degree.

More than 44 million Americans are paying off student loans, including a growing number of people over 60, according to the Federal Reserve. The average student loan debt of a 2016 college graduate was $37,000. At $1.4 trillion, U.S. student loan debt is now larger than credit card debt.

Antenori said taxpayers should help pay only for degrees, such as those in engineering, medicine or law, that lead directly to jobs. If a student wants to study art or get a “junky” degree in “diversity studies or culture studies,” they should go to a private school, he said.

“You want to create someone who’s going to be a contributor, not a moocher,” Antenori said. “Go out and generate revenue; that’s what it’s all about.”

Steve Farley could not disagree more.

“This whole idea that government should be run more like a business is so profoundly morally flawed,” said Farley, a Democratic state senator who is running for governor and used to spar regularly with Antenori when the Republican served in the state legislature from 2009 to 2013.

“Government should be run like a family. We should be raising our children to be the best people they can be,” Farley said. “We should not be manufacturing them to be products to be consumed. That is a basic ethical and moral flaw in this whole argument, that everything’s got to have financial payback so we can reduce taxes for the Koch brothers.”

Farley said music and art are critical to education, invention and creativity “that can lift us from all these problems that we seem surrounded with these days.” He noted that Apple founder Steve Jobs credited a college calligraphy course with helping spark the design of the first Macintosh computer.

Farley worries that the withdrawal of public funds to colleges is widening the class divide. Public universities have long been the surest route to a degree for those who are not wealthy. But as tuition rises, they are beyond the reach of more people. A recent study by New America, a Washington think tank, found that since the 1990s there has been a sharp decrease in low-income students at the nation’s top public universities and a sharp rise in wealthy students.

Two years ago, Antenori moved out of Tucson to rural Cochise because he “couldn’t take the hippies anymore. They were raising my taxes for every stupid little thing, like bike paths and puppy palaces.”

He lived in a tightly packed subdivision, with a homeowner’s association that gave him grief because his pick-up truck was slightly too big for the driveway.

So now he and his family live in a low-tax patch of desert in the shadow of the Dragoon Mountains. He can bow-hunt for deer on his own land, keeping one eye out for mountain lions.

“The only noise I hear is the coyotes howling at night,” he said, looking out over the mesquite trees under perfect blue skies. “My blood pressure has dropped 20 points since I moved here.”

And he loves that Trump’s White House is less “snobbish” and more welcoming to people like him. Antenori is tired, he said, of being condescended to for thinking universities should be more practical, not havens for “damn crybabies and spoiled brats.”

#Frank Antenori #higher education #college funding #liberal education

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