
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8410024.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/John_Winchester
  Character:
      John_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Sex, Implied_Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega
      Dynamics, Alpha_John_Winchester, Omega_Dean_Winchester, First_Time,
      Virgin_Dean, Dean_is_a_Cock_Tease, Guilty_John, Daddy_Kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-10-29 Words: 4568
****** Hotter than Hell ******
by theywere-neverhomeless_(notyourdadsaugspecialist)
Summary
     It starts out innocently enough, with a little less clothing and a
     little less personal space. So Dean struts around, with his little
     flashes of skin and as if that isn’t bad enough, he seems to be
     everywhere. John has been an alpha a long time, so he has plenty of
     practice hiding his arousal, but every now and then Dean just looks
     up at him from under those thick eyelashes, sweet as can be, with
     this coy cat-got-the-cream grin. Every time, god help him, John has
     to look away and dig his nails into his palm to hide the sharp ping
     of arousal that he knows is curling around his natural scent. And
     every time, Dean’s smile gets a little bit wider.
     Frankly, John thinks that Dean is going to be the death of him.
Notes
     He calls me the devil
     I make him wanna sin
     Every time I knock, he can't help but let me in
     Must be homesick for the real
     I'm the realest it gets
     You probably still adore me
     With my hands around your neck
     Can you feel the warmth? Yeah
     As my kiss goes down you like some sweet alcohol
     Where I'm coming from, yeah
     It's the darker side of me that makes you feel so numb
     Cause we're hot like hell
     Does it burn when I'm not there?
     When you're by yourself
     Am I the answer to your prayers
     I'm giving you that pleasure heaven
     And I'll give it to you
     Hotter than hell
     Hotter than Hell ~ Dua Lipa
Dean is fourteen when he presents. It’s a messy affair. Everyone thought he’d
be an alpha, so when they’re in the middle of a hunt and John smells the
overwhelming sticky-sweet of his son’s slick, he’s wholly unprepared. He’s not
ignorant though, and his past with helping Mary through her heats gives him
some idea of what to expect, so after his knees buckle from the powerful wave
of arousal that Dean’s scent brings, he sucks in a deep breath through his
mouth, picks up his son’s limp form, and carries him back to the car.
 
They get to the motel quickly enough, and Sam knows enough to stay out of the
way while John tends to Dean, but John knows he’s worried. But any questions
Sam has can wait. Right now, John’s main concern is for his eldest. Dean’s been
whimpering, reaching for him, and John turns back to him and scoops him up in
his arms. At this age, just the scent of an alpha is enough to calm him, and
John can’t deny Dean the comfort of it. So when Dean presses his face into the
crook of John’s neck, sniffing in sharp, pained inhales, John pushes aside the
curl of arousal and shame and cards his fingers through his son’s hair.
 
After Dean drifts off to sleep, John tucks him in, and he pulls off his jacket
and drapes it across the boy’s form before turning for the door. He stops,
fixes Sammy with a stern look that’s not without sympathy, and he says, “Sammy,
you look after Dean while I’m gone. Try not to wake him.”
 
Sam’s face is scrunched up with worry, and at ten years old, John wishes that
he didn’t have to put so much responsibility on his children’s shoulders. But
Sam straightens, and with steely resolve in his eyes, he nods at his father.

 “Yes, sir,” Sam says, in a serious tone that makes John proud, and John nods
back at him before leaving.
 
He comes back later with suppressants and a bag of toys and a bucketful of
shame, but he knows that at this young, Dean won’t need them.
 
After two days of holding his son close and changing his pajamas and sheets
every few hours, Dean is back to normal and they’re back on the road. John
forwarded the case to another hunter in the area, so he has no qualms about
packing up and heading off.
 
Ever since that first heat, Dean’s always stayed a little closer to John than
before, and John is worried that the boy’s imprinted on him. It’s not unheard
of, especially within families where bonds between AOs are the strongest, but
it makes him feel no less guilty. But Dean takes his suppressants diligently,
so they don’t have another incident like the first, and John is both relieved
and disappointed that he won’t be able to hold his boy close while Dean smells
so intoxicating under his nose.
 
By the time Dean turns sixteen, he’s a crack shot with a pistol and he’s even
more dangerous with his mouth. Sam comes home complaining about how many girls
have thrown themselves at Dean already, and John always smiles because he knows
Sam is just jealous. Whether it’s of the attention his omega brother is
getting, or of the girls, John isn’t sure, and he doesn’t think he wants to
know.
 
Sometimes John will wake up in the middle of the night, sheets stuck to his
sweaty skin and his heart thudding in his throat, and his boys have learned by
now not to ask about the way the alpha’s scent sharpens with shame around
itself. They probably think their dad’s been dreaming about their mother, and
sometimes they’re right. God, John wishes to hell that were the only thing he
dreamed about, because the times that he dreams about his eldest boy beneath
him, crying out for his daddy, for his alpha, as John fucks him are worse. So
much worse. If Mary knew how John felt about their son, she would come back and
haunt him. Hell, she’d probably kill him herself.
 
John knows it’s a bad idea, and he knows it’s selfish, but when Dean complains
about the looks people give him at school, he can’t help it. The suppressants
don’t just suppress Dean’s heat, they also suppress his scent. It confuses the
other kids, and Dean’s gotten more than his share of negative attention because
of it. So on the first day of school after they’ve moved again, John pulls off
his old leather jacket, the one Mary had gotten him for the last anniversary
they spent together, and he hands it to Dean.
 
“Here, son. Wear this to school. My Alpha scent should stop the other kids from
drawing any conclusions.”
 
His voice is gruff, and he manages to push down the blush that threatens to
steal up his neck. He tells himself that he’s only offering because their scent
is so similar since they’re related, that people would just think Dean was an
alpha. He tells himself that it’s definitely not a symbolic mark of ownership
over his boy, that there’s no ulterior motive here. He tells himself that he’s
doing this for Dean.
 
Dean’s whole face lights up, a bright smile stretching across his face as he
slips into the too-big jacket, and John’s heart twists painfully. Why does the
boy have to be so goddamn beautiful?
 
“Thanks, Dad,” Dean says, his eyes soft with affection and his voice
suspiciously thick with emotion.
 
“You’re welcome, Dean,” John says gruffly as he shoos them out the door.
 
John prays to whatever god will listen that Dean doesn’t wise up to how John
really feels.
 
But, as usual, the gods are cruel.
 
It starts out innocently enough, with a little less clothing and a little less
personal space.  Dean starts wearing thinner shirts, old threadbare tees that
hang off his body, and when he’s at home he wears the too-big shirts and his
boxers, and he refuses to put on pants, no matter how John chastises him.
Eventually, John gives up, because he’s too afraid of seeming a little too
concerned with Dean’s lack of clothing. So Dean struts around, with his little
flashes of skin and as if that isn’t bad enough, he seems to be everywhere.
Always right there, right next to John. Dean makes sure their legs are always
brushing when they sit at dinner. When John sits on his bed to clean his guns,
Dean is right there beside him, somehow always managing to brush their fingers
together.
 
John has been an alpha a long time, so he has plenty of practice hiding his
arousal, but every now and then Dean just looks up at him from under those
thick eyelashes, sweet as can be, with this coy cat-got-the-cream grin.  Every
time, god help him, John has to look away and dig his nails into his palm to
hide the sharp ping of arousal that he knows is curling around his natural
scent. And every time, Dean’s smile gets a little bit wider.
 
Frankly, John thinks that Dean is going to be the death of him.
 
The first time Dean calls him ‘Daddy,’ John nearly groans out loud and he has
to excuse himself to go for a walk.  He pulls on his jacket hastily, and he
misses the dubious look Sam gives his brother, and the smug shrug that Dean
gives in return.
 
Of course, he was in such a rush that he didn’t notice that he grabbed Dean’s
jacket by mistake. As soon as he’s out of the house, the smell of Dean wraps
around him, and John sucks in a greedy breath through his nose, burying his
face in the jacket. He feels so ashamed, but he can’t bring himself to stop. He
keeps scenting Dean on the jacket, and god, it makes his head spin. He stumbles
toward the Impala, his steps faltering when he smells it. Underneath the
everyday ordinary smell of Dean, arousal. Orgasm. Woven underneath the scent of
freshly mown grass, gun oil and vanilla is the honeysuckle smell of Dean’s
arousal. The only reason John recognizes it is because he got a damn noseful
during that first heat, and he’s been dreaming about it ever since.
 
Shame washes through him as he practically trips into the car and closes the
door quietly behind him, because before the door’s even shut he’s palming his
cock and groaning. John’s hands tremble as he unzips his pants and shaking
fingers wrap around his already leaking cock.  He wants so badly to taste Dean,
to put one thick finger inside his son’s leaking hole and taste the slick on
his tongue. He wants so badly to have his son begging for him to go harder,
faster, deeper as he stretches Dean around his cock. John isn’t particularly
long, but he’s very thick, and he wants to drink the moans and whimpers Dean
would make trying to fit it inside that tight virgin heat.
 
John comes embarrassingly quickly, biting into one fist as he spills over the
other with a thick groan. He cleans himself off with a rag in the floorboards,
and lets his head fall back against the headrest with a defeated thump.
 
Please forgive me, Mary.
 
Once the sweat cools on his skin, John gathers his courage and goes back
inside. Sam’s gone to bed, but Dean is sitting cross-legged in his bed, reading
a book. If Dean can smell the lingering stench of guilt and semen on John, he
doesn’t say anything, but in the morning when he goes to school, John swears he
sees Dean give him a sultry grin when the boy slips on the jacket as he heads
out the door. Neither of the boys see the way John raises a shaking hand to
cover his eyes once they’ve left. God help him, John’s just a man. He’s never
been particularly strong, his friendship with Johnny Walker and Jose Cuervo can
attest to that, no matter what the boys think. But when it comes to his boys?
He’s weak. Always has been. And now Dean is chipping away every bit of his
resolve. The boy will be his undoing, and John is equal parts terrified and
entranced by the thought of what comes after that.
 
John was set up to fail from the very start, but when he comes home to see Dean
cooking dinner wearing nothing but the jacket and some kind of unholy black
lace panty, clinging to the gentle curve of his ass, he knows he’s doomed.
 
“Dean Winchester, what do you think you’re doing?” John barks, his voice
booming in the small space.  He’s hoping that Dean will be jolted out of
whatever diabolical plan he’s plotting, but what little fortitude he has left
trembles when Dean turns around with a coy grin instead. He can smell the
arousal already tucking itself into Dean’s scent, and lord help him, his body
responds readily to the invitation. Dean’s grin spreads when he smells the
desire in his father’s scent, and John may honest to god whimper at that.
 
“Do you like them, Daddy?” Dean purrs, and the way the boy’s lips wrap around
the title has a shudder snaking up John’s spine.  The boy turns back to his
task, wiggling his pert bottom in a way that could only be described as
inviting. John takes a step forward despite himself.
 
“Where’s your brother?” John rasps, hating himself for how hoarse his voice is
already. He takes another step forward.  By the time Dean replies, he’s close
enough to reach out and touch.
 
“He’s studying with some friends at the library,” Dean says, stirring the pot
of beans even as he throws John a glance over his shoulder. John’s not an
idiot; he can see the want darkening those pretty green eyes of Dean’s, can see
the pink flush of the boy’s cheeks under all those freckles. “It’s just you and
me,  Daddy, ” he says, and this time John groans out loud at the word, an Alpha
rumble thrumming in his chest.
 
John licks his lips as Dean’s mouth goes slack with want, the Omega in him
responding to his Alpha.
 
“Touch me, Alpha,” Dean murmurs, using his Omega voice, and John is helpless to
resist. The last of his resolve crumbles into dust. He can smell his boy’s
slick, already wet before he’s even laid a hand on him, and the strength of it
nearly makes his knees buckle when John lays a large hand on Dean’s hip and
pulls him flush against his body. Dean keens when the thick line of John’s cock
nestles against his lower back, and he arches his back, rubbing his ass into
it. John growls again, the sound intensifying when he feels the moisture
dampening Dean’s panties.
 
“Such a pretty Omega,” John purrs, and Dean makes a wordless pleased noise as
John’s other hand slides up under the jacket to skate up his torso. “You’re a
slut, boy, you know that?” He growls it into Dean’s ear, who responds with a
wordless moan and a cant of his hips. John rolls one nipple between his
calloused fingers, and Dean cries out, squirming against John’s body. John
groans, hands drifting down bare flesh to grip Dean’s hips again, and one hand
presses back, slipping under the lace to press at the crease of Dean’s ass.
 
“Yes, please, god yes,” Dean moans, head falling back onto John’s chest, and
John lets out another Alpha growl as he presses further down. John groans when
he reaches dampness, and by the time his finger presses against Dean’s hole,
most of his hand is covered in slick.
 
“God, Dean, you’re so wet for me,” John groans into Dean’s neck in awe, and he
presses tender kisses into the dip behind Dean’s ear as he slides that first
finger home. Dean cries out roughly, a sharp sound that trails off into a
drawn-out moan as John slowly fingers him. He rolls his hips back in a clear
invitation for more, and John can feel how wet he is, so he slides in another
finger beside the first. Dean moans thickly, hands shaking around the ladle
that he’s still clutching.
 
“Yeah, that’s it, Omega, you’re taking my fingers so good,” John praises as he
starts scissoring his fingers inside, biting his lip to stifle the groan as
Dean begins to purr under the slow assault. John crooks his fingers, brushing
against that sweet spot, and Dean’s eyes snap open as he cries out sharply.
 
“Hhhho, god, Dad, do that again, Dad,” Dean pleads, throwing an arm around
John’s neck to help hold himself up, and John complies. The boy’s thighs begin
to tremble as he continues pressing against his prostate, wringing desperate
cries from Dean’s lips. John chuckles at the disappointed keening whimper Dean
gives when he pulls his fingers free, leaving the boy empty and aching for
more.
 
He raises a trembling hand to his mouth and wraps his lips around his own
fingers, moaning when the taste finally hits his tongue. It’s better than he
even imagined, and Dean trembles beneath him at the sharp spike of arousal in
John’s alpha scent.
 
John grabs Dean’s hand and presses a gentle kiss to the inside of his son’s
wrist, which has Dean blushing. The older man disentangles himself carefully
before wrapping his fingers in the hem of those gorgeous, soaked lace panties.
 
“So fucking beautiful, my Omega,” John purrs as he gently tugs the panties down
Dean’s hips, and the way they look pooled at his ankles is almost hotter than
the way they looked encasing the boy’s ass.
 
John takes two firm handfuls of Omega ass, and Dean moans, lifting his hips up
and back in encouragement as he kneads the flesh. Dean stills when John gets
down on one knee and then the other, eyes glued to the cute little asshole
nestled between those beautiful globes of flesh, steadily leaking slick.
 
“D-dad, what are you doing?”
 
This is the first time Dean’s seemed unsure since this whole debacle began, and
John smiles reassuringly up at his son, which seems to calm him.
 
“Trust me, son. Spread your legs,” he orders, and Dean obeys immediately.
Dean’s always been the more obedient one, always eager to please. It definitely
comes in handy now, and John growls at the sight. “Good boy, Omega. Now hold
still.”
 
“Yes, Alpha,” Dean breathes, hands braced on either side of the stove, meal
long-forgotten.
 
John lets out an Alpha rumble of approval and then he’s got his face buried
between Dean’s spread asscheeks, lapping greedily at the slick hole. His
stubble rubs against his son’s tender thighs, and John briefly wonders if it
hurts, but Dean’s moaning, rocking back into the sensation, and he wastes no
further consideration on it as he slips his tongue into that tight hole.
 
“ Dad! ” Dean cries out, eyes wide in shock and pleasure as John begins tongue
fucking him in earnest. He’s got slick on his chin, his son’s ass on his face,
and the heavy taste of Dean on his tongue, and John doesn’t think there’s been
anything more perfect in his life. He grabs Dean’s cheeks firmly and pulls them
further apart, allowing his tongue to worm in even deeper, and Dean’s thighs
are shaking as he keens above him.
 
“Yeah, yeah, Dad, yeah, Alpha,  yes, ” Dean moans, breathlessly encouraging
John’s ministrations until he’s just moaning and keening and purring deep in
his chest. John groans, and reaches up to wrap a hand around Dean’s cock. Dean
cries out sharply when he begins pumping him slowly, his moans becoming more
and more desperate. “Dad, Daddy, gonna come, I need to come, Alpha, please, can
I-”
 
John moans roughly, pulling his face from its place in heaven to order roughly,
“Come for me, Omega. Come for me, Dean.”
 
He uses his Alpha voice in the command, and Dean obeys, like he always does,
keening sharply as he comes all over John’s hand, and he keeps coming and
coming until his legs give out. John finally stops pumping the poor boy’s cock
and grabs him, lowering him gently onto the floor.
 
Dean is panting harshly, mouth slack with the orgasm he’s still coming down
from, and John strokes his arms gently, comforting his omega as he comes back
to reality. Sooner than John expected, Dean’s eyes are clearing, and he turns
in John’s arms to press his lips to John’s.
 
Dean’s no newbie to kissing, and it shows, but John is older and much more
experienced. Dean presses his body against John’s as the older man kisses him,
and John wraps an arm around Dean’s waist to pull him closer as he slips his
tongue in the boy’s mouth. Dean moans into the kiss, and John drinks it up, his
cock almost painful where it’s trapped in its denim prison, but he ignores it
and loses himself in his son’s mouth. When they finally part, they’re both
breathing hard, but John isn’t prepared for the quiet but determined request
that Dean murmurs against his lips.
 
“I want you to fuck me, Dad.”
 
John groans, deep in his chest, and he lets his head fall back as his cock
throbs painfully before falling back forward to look into Dean’s eyes.
 
“Dean, are you sure? That’s a pretty big step. Wouldn’t you rather have your
first time be with someone your age, someone you like?”
 
John’s heart is thrumming rapid-fire in his chest, and all he wants to do is
push Dean onto the floor and mount him, but this is Dean. This is his baby boy.
 
“Dad,” Dean says with a shake of his head, like John’s the biggest idiot in the
world. He surges up and kisses John sweetly but passionately, and pulls back
again. “Want  you.”  He enunciates the word with another kiss. “Wanted you
since I presented. Always you, Dad.”
 
John just groans again, pressing their foreheads together in a tender gesture
as Dean unzips John’s trousers and wraps his fingers around the man’s
thickness. Dean sucks in an appreciative breath, but John just growls, pulling
Dean to him with one hand and grabbing his cock with the other. He grinds
against Dean’s ass for a few beats, letting it get nice and slick before he’s
lining himself up. Dean’s just as eager to get on with it because he cants his
hips so that the head of John’s cock catches on the boy’s entrance, and John
doesn’t need any further encouraging. He slowly guides Dean down onto his cock,
reveling in the way Dean’s thighs tremble around him where they’re bracketing
his own, and by the time Dean’s fully seated, the boy’s whole body is
trembling.
 
“Are you alright, son?” John asks, his voice rough like gravel, eyes black with
want. Dean isn’t much better, the green almost completely swallowed by dark
need, and when he answers, his voice is hoarse.
 
“Y-yeah, just. Big.”
 
John chuckles, letting Dean get used to his not inconsiderable girth.
Eventually, Dean’s ready, and he lifts himself up with shaky thighs. An obscene
moan falls from Dean’s lips at the feel of his father’s cock splitting him open
as he lets gravity pull him back into John’s lap.
 
“ Fuck , Dean!” John nearly shouts, taken by surprise. “You want me to come
before we’ve started, that’s how to do it, son,” John growls as he grabs Dean’s
hips. He takes over the pace, slowly, slowly, slowly pulling Dean off his cock,
and just as slowly pushing him back down. They’re both trembling with the
effort, and when Dean whimpers a plea for more, John decides he’s had enough of
slow.
 
His fingers are firm on Dean’s hips as he fucks into him, using his hips just
as much as he’s guiding Dean’s, and the feeling of his boy’s tight slick heat
wrapped around him is more incredible than he could have imagined. He’s
groaning into Dean’s mouth, cock throbbing at the obscene sound of Dean’s hole
greedily swallowing John’s cock over and over again, and he can feel his knot
swelling even as Dean’s keening cries grow more and more desperate.  John
roughly shoves one hand between them and pushes his pants down further, lifting
his hips up in a way that makes them both cry out as he shimmies out of them.
 
“That’s such a good boy, Dean, you’re taking my cock so beautifully,” John
praises, voice rough and thick with pleasure and exertion, cock throbbing at
the beautiful purring his omega is making. “I’m getting close, Dean,” he
grunts, never faltering in his pace as he fucks the boy. “Do you want my knot,
Omega?” He laces the words with his Alpha purr, and he knows it’s underhanded
but he can’t quite control himself. Dean goes wild above him, keening
desperately and pressing his hips eagerly down, encouraging a harsher pace and
answering his question rather soundly.
 
“Yeah, fuck, Dad, yeah please, I need it, please Alpha, please,” Dean begs into
John’s mouth, and he can feel the boy spasming around his cock, warning of his
impending orgasm.
 
“You’re so good, Dean, so good for me,” John moans as his knot presses up
against Dean’s hole. “Here it comes, Omega, you ready?” He growls the question,
more rhetorical anything because he’s fucking into Dean’s hole and the knot
goes in a little more each time. Dean is moaning and crying out desperately
above him, and when it finally slides in with an obscene squelch, Dean screams.
He’s coming, hot and hard and heavy between them, slick gushing over John’s
balls as the boy contracts and spasms around him, and that’s all it takes for
John. He’s coming, gushing into Dean’s hole, and he doesn’t even have to thrust
anymore because the way Dean’s muscles are spasming around him are enough to
keep him coming inside the boy until they’re both spent.

 Dean slumps, exhausted, into John’s arms, and John carefully lowers them both
to the floor with as little jostling as possible.  Dean presses his face into
the crook of his father’s neck, and John runs his fingers through Dean’s hair,
just like he did that first night of Dean’s heat. They lay like that for
several minutes, just drinking each other in as they come down.
 
“Oh, God, it reeks!” John’s heart stops sickeningly, and his blood runs cold as
he hears Sam’s voice in the doorway. Dean tenses in his arms, and John grips
him tightly to avoid Dean trying to jerk off his lap, he would just hurt
himself at this point with John’s knot still swollen inside him.
 
“God, it’s about fucking time, you guys,” Sam calls out in exasperation, “but
did you have to do it in the dining room? We  eat  there!”
 
“Go for a walk, son,” John orders, his voice firm, but he really has no ground
to stand on here, and he completely deserves it when Sam groans a petulant
“whatever” and slams the door.
 
He looks down at Dean, concerned about how the boy’s taking being walked in on
by his brother. Dean’s wide eyes meet his, the green slowly coming back into
focus as the fog of desire fades away. They stare at each other like that for a
moment, and then Dean bursts into giggles in his arms.
 
“It’s not funny, Dean,” John says weakly, but he’s chuckling too, and Dean’s
just laughing and laughing.
 
It  is  pretty absurd, John supposes.  Eventually the laughter dies out, and
when the smiles fade from their faces, John presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead.
 
“Are you alright, son?” John asks gently, hoping Dean understands the questions
he didn’t ask.  Do you hate me? Have I ruined everything?
 
“Are you kidding me?” Dean asks incredulously, and he continues before John has
a chance to freak out. “I’m  awesome !” He bursts out laughing again, and they
both laugh together this time. When Dean’s laugh morphs into a surprised groan
when the knot slides out, face frozen in comedic shock, John laughs even
louder.
 
“Shut up, Dad,” Dean says, kicking John’s ankle, but there’s no real venom
behind it.
 
Now that they’re able to, John sits them both up and presses a sweet, tender
kiss to Dean’s lips. Those green eyes flutter shut and Dean makes a quiet
pleased noise in his throat. When they finally pull away, John smiles down at
him gently, face full of affection, and Dean flushes under the gaze.
 
“Let’s get up and clean ourselves up before your brother gets back and is
scarred for life,” John says with a lopsided grin, and Dean groans with chagrin
as they both slowly get to their feet. John manages to pull up Dean’s panties
and fasten them around his hips just before some of John’s semen leaks out onto
the floor.
 
“Yes, sir,” Dean says with a grin as he shuffles off to the bathroom to wash
off.
 
When the boy disappears into the bathroom, John’s smile fades, and he looks to
the ceiling sadly.
 
Please forgive me, Mary. These boys. They’re all I got.

The life they have is tough. They deserve happiness where it can be found. It
makes things more complicated, but they’ll figure it out. They always do.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
