thought i lost it — steve harrington
x fem reader. smut. (new version)
SUMMARY: Returning to your hometown after three years, you find that everything looks much the same. However, the earthquake and the quarantine seem to have shaken the town to its core. How is it that even your ex-boyfriend seems different, yet feels exactly the same?
NOTE: hiiiii! maybe some of you read the first version of this, but i rewrote it. i felt like something was missing, so yep! i really hope you like it as much as part one. please comment if you want to be added to the taglist.
WARNINGS: smut; fingering, edging, oral sex (f reciving), softdom!steve.
the military was clearly trying to hide something. you had been driving for hours, praying they wouldn't stop you the moment you passed the 'welcome to hawkins' sign. god knows you had tried before, but since they decided to quarantine the whole town without a clear explanation, every attempt to get into your hometown had failed.
it was classic hawkins—since senior year, everything had gone to hell. tragedy after tragedy, starting with the disappearance of the Byers kid. you had been freaking out from the moment you heard about the earthquake; your sister and her family were still there. she had moved into your parents' place after they headed off to the family summer house in Michigan City following your dad’s retirement. now, after a year and a half, you were finally reuniting with your sister and her kids for the entire winter break.
'A Christmas miracle,' your sister had called it when you told her over the phone that you would return to Hawkins as soon as you finished your finals in Chicago. you hadn't been back since graduation.
your niece and nephew came running out of the house, their faces lit with wide smiles and eyes full of delight as they saw you stepping out of your Mercedes.
"oh my god! are those... are those my little bugs?" the high-pitched scream you let out while getting out of the car did nothing to dampen their excitement. your five-year-old niece ran into your arms, squealing loudly, with her brother right on her heels.
the screams and squeals drew your sister out of the house. "finally, the prodigal daughter returns..." she said, a playful smirk painted on her face. you walked toward the entrance where she stood waiting, with her kids practically hanging off your limbs.
'welcome back, sissy...' she said, and something in her posture changed, as if your presence was lifting a weight off her shoulders. she looked relieved.
"i'm so happy to see you i could hug you to death!" you exclaimed before throwing your arms around all of them. she ushered y'all inside the house; it was freezing outside and she was already asking if you had eaten that day.
"hey, i'm going to grab one of my bags from the car now so i don't have to go back out later..." you tickled the kids to get them to let go of you, and they snickered while running into the kitchen where your sister led them.
once you got outside, you couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the house across the street. the burgundy beamer was nowhere to be seen. with the duffel bag hanging from your shoulder, you took a moment to scan the house. his bedroom light was the only one on. classic.
everything looked different in the neighborhood, but old habits die hard.
dinner was great, probably because jason, your brother-in-law, didn't show up. it was a relief to you; you never really liked him. neither did your parents. your sister looked bummed, though.
coming back home was difficult. the memories were kind of haunting; your senior year definitely didn't meet your expectations. in your room, steve was everywhere. all the memories of your first boyfriend, the one you successfully avoided thinking about for three years,came rushing back.
you knew that life was laughing at you the moment you couldn't find your pajamas in the bag after showering. you didn't leave many clothes there, just the ones you didn't want to wear anymore.
like the hawkins phys ed. shirt. steve's shirt.
now you have to lie in the bed you used to sleep on with him, forced to remember how he used to sneak into your room after your parents went to sleep, all while wearing his shirt. you could sleep without a shirt—if you wanted to catch a cold—or maybe alice could lend you one of hers, but the moment you heard the slamming of the front door, you decided against it. jason was home after midnight, and you didn't want to see his stupid face before going to sleep.
so much for avoiding the memories of your relationship.
it wasn't that bad, after all... nobody will ever know you kept his shirt. Just like nobody knows you still have all the trinkets he gave you during the year you dated, or how you cringed every single time a guy called you 'bunny' or 'princess,' or how you tend to avoid guys with dark brown hair like they’re a pest. to your friends back in Chicago, you have a type: blondes with green eyes and a nerdy disposition. to you, all the jocks had mono.
that’s how you’re sure nobody knows that sometimes you need to picture him to get off while having sex with other guys. how you learned from his fingers the exact way you like it. all the knowledge you have about yourself, sexually speaking, you discovered it with him.
so... of course, wearing his shirt in the bed where he kissed you for the first time was no big deal.
you were finally falling asleep when the screaming match started. it escalated quickly. angry steps across the hallway and then on the stairs.
"i want you OUT!" your sister's screams were muffled because of the distance between floors. she had to be hurting her throat with the intensity of her words. and she was definitely crying. you kicked the blankets off your body and got up to bolt down the stairs; your whole body got chills immediately. it was freezing. you caught them at the front door, and your heart broke at the look on your sister's face.
"jason, what the fuck?" you tried to stay calm; he was clearly drunk.
"stay out of our business, brat." he spat in your face before focusing on alice again. "so what? you're kicking me out of our house? why? because i work from dawn to dusk for you and our kids?"
he clean sound of a slap froze your feet where you were standing. jason's reaction was quick; he pushed her with a lot of force, throwing her your way. alice's shriek of surprise was enough to take you out of your stupor. you moved forward ready to push him back—finally you were going to put to use the self-defense class you took in your senior year—but your sister was faster. she kicked him in the shin with the tip of her boot, making him scream and fall through the open door.
"i- i never want to see you again!" alice exclaimed while punching him in his back as he walked into the front yard. you were on her heels; it was evident to you that she needed to vent.
your nephew, nate, was definitely watching this through his window.
"allie, stop." you decided to intervene. "the kids are inside." you stepped between them, trying to intercept your sister's fists. "you guys will talk when he is sober, if you are comfortable."
"i want him out! and i want a divorce!!" you had never seen alice so pissed. "...did you hear me? i want a divorce!!"
"so now you don't want to see me again? now that your sister is here, you're all brave and bratty to your husband... the one that puts food on your fucking plate every day, huh!?" he grumbled.
"jason! stop! the kids are sleeping and you cannot even walk straight!" you screamed uselessly.
"what are you gonna do if i give you the divorce? you're going back to work? without me, you're nothing..." his cruel words came out of his mouth like venom, and the worst thing was that this scene didn't look like a first act.
"yes! i don't know and i don't care! just sign the papers..." that was the last thing alice said before turning on her feet and going back into the house. her kids were already hovering near the entrance, trying to catch a glimpse of the fight.
"jason... listen to me." you said. you didn't like him one bit, but you would play mediator just for the sake of the kids. "leave, and after you sober up, maybe you guys can talk."
"i'm not leaving," he denied and tried to round you to get back inside; your sister had closed the door. he looked ready to start banging at it desperately. "i'm not signing any divorce papers, alice! get that stupid idea out of your head, do you hear me?"
"jason, i swear to god that i'm going to call the police! get your ass out of my yard right now!" through the door, your sister kept screaming.
"hey, hey! what's going on?" that voice made your body stiff. the sudden distraction was enough to make your sister's husband stop pounding on the wood. your breath hitched when steve harrington crossed your front yard and stopped right beside you. "what the fuck, man?"
"go mind your own business, harrington! you don't have any weirdo to babysit tonight?" oh, no. jason was looking for trouble anywhere, and by steve's eyes, you could tell he was ready to respond.
"ok, gents. i'm gonna stop you right there..." you positioned your body in the middle of the men, your back to steve so you could pretend he was not there. "there's children inside, and i don't want to deal with the police if you guys beat the fuck out of each other."
"you still have a lot of faith in this loser, sis. but let me tell you something; you were the only fool to fall for his bullshit. the whole town knows that stevie here is a fraud who peaked in high school and is destined to fail. why do you think that danny and mrs. harrington left and never came back?"
your heart fell to your stomach when steve's arm circled your waist to move you aside; he looked ready to beat jason's face to a pulp.
"woah, why don't you repeat all that to my face, buddy? since you have so many opinions about me and my life, c'mon...say it to my face..." he stood there as he stared jason down with his jaw set tight, every muscle in his neck strained. his chest was puffed out, a broad wall between your brother-in-law, while his fists were white-knuckled and clenched at his sides, ready to snap the second jason opened his stupid mouth.
jason sneered, clearly underestimating steve's looming posture. "sure, man. you want to hear what i think about you?"
"steve, he's drunk and full of bullshit..." you tried to mediate, assessing the clear threat that your brother-in-law was facing. "it's not worth it."
"oh, but it is worth it, sissy. you've been away for too long, but there's many things you need to know." you frowned, a little intrigued by what he had to say. "i'm trying to defend your honor over here..."
"steve-boy, you wanna know what i think about you? that you fumbled the only girl that would fall for you, and now that she is over you, you are trying to sneak your way into my wife's sheets to compensate—"
"steve! oh my god!" you cried out when he punched jason's jaw so hard that he landed on his butt.
"hey, hey! what are you two doing?"alice opened the door and yelled at the top of her lungs. her eyes were wide; jason lunged forward, and the momentum sent both men crashing onto the grass. they tumbled across the yard, a frantic scramble of limbs and movement as they struggled for control.
"call the police!" you ordered your sister, desperate to stop them. "steve, what are you do—"
"bunny! bunny... careful," steve tried to warn you when you closed the distance to try and separate them. steve's strength allowed him to gain the upper hand. he managed to maneuver jason onto the ground and used his weight to hold him steady, effectively stopping the struggle. with jason pinned firmly against the turf, steve held him there until the fight finally drained out of him. steve stayed braced over him, his chest heaving from the effort, making sure jason was completely immobilized before finally letting out a long, tense breath.
"harrington, get off of him!" you pushed the dark-haired man off jason, trying to avoid a rematch."i told you he's drunk... who cares about whatever he says?" steve hadn't caught the rhetorical nature of your question and answered.
"i was not gonna let him talk trash about us or your sister. i don't care if he's drunk out of his mind, bun." you rolled your eyes hearing the nickname. how dare he look so handsome after all this time? couldn't he take after tommy hagan—who, after three years, dressed like a grandpa and slicked back his hair with a thick layer of gel like he was in a movie? no, instead he looked the coziest that he ever looked, with his disheveled dark brown hair and a tank top that showed off his arms and hugged his chest like a second skin.
you saw a pair of glasses laying in the grass from the corner of your eye and grabbed them, checking for damage. "...here." you offered themto their owner, who rushed to you.
"thank god, robin would kill me if i broke them..." he said before putting them back over his nose.
before you could ask about the glasses, or this robin girl, sirens broke the silence of the night. the police were close and jason was still lying in your front yard, looking barely conscious. alice came out of the house again and walking like a force of nature she kicked her husband in the ribs softly before speaking.
"i want you OUT of the house. leave and never come back, jason... i swear to god, i'm going to ruin your life if you don't leave me and the kids in peace." the moment the police cars pulled up in front of your house, you knew this was going to be a long night. "get inside, kids. i will take care of powell..."
"let's get you inside, bun. you'll catch a cold. look at those shorts... if you haven't noticed yet, it's winter." his arm circled your waist with carefully and led you into the house.
"you're wearing a tank top, steve."
"my point exactly, we will get sick." he navigated his way around your kitchen to get you a glass of water. he took a seat in one of the stools beside you, watching you sip your water.
"we need to take care of your face..." you suggested, the worry in your eyes was probably evident. "he got you good..." you focused your eyes on his lips.
"this little cuts? i'm fine, bun. don't sweat it"
you didn't say anything else; for a few reasons. firstly, because your head hurt like hell, and secondly because steve freaking harrington, the man you were hoping to avoid for as long as you could, was mere inches from you. he was wearing a tank top—looking more handsome than ever.
god was definitely having fun with you; the 'he gives his worst battles to his best warriors' premise was loud in your head.
"you okay?" he brushed some of your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.
"home sweet home, right?" he chuckled lightly and shook his head with disbelief before looking straight into your eyes; there was a nostalgic glint in them.
"...bunny, you have no idea." he spoke like he had lived a thousand lives.
"steve," you called, "can you stay still? I'm trying to patch you up." with the first aid kit open in the kitchen island you tried cup his chin so you could clean the cuts.
"ok, doc. i'll leave you to it" he pulled his hands up to show you he was defenseless, you couldn't avoid checking him out. he was wearing a fucking tank top, when did he start wearing them? when did he leave the pajamas his mom used to buy him aside? he had glasses resting on his nose, for fuck's sake. "you know... i had been looking for that shirt for months back in the day. i thought i lost it." he gestured with his head toward your chest. "good to know that you were taking care of it for me."
"I'm not giving it back." the unapologetic answer didn't match the flush in your cheeks. you talked like it was your favorite shirt, but you hadn't worn it for three years—not until that night.
"wasn't asking for it, bunny..." you were crowding him now, and his body so close to yours felt like a heater. "i reckon that it won't fit me." yeah, it wouldn't. his staring was making you tremble a little. he always had that effect on you. heat pooled down in your belly when you finally noticed the nickname. the motherfucker still had it. "it suits you well though."
yeah, no. you were not letting him win. if you could stand your ground against jason's drunk episode, you would not perish facing your ex-boyfriend.
it didn't matter if he looked the hottest he ever had, with his hair a little disheveled from sleep and his stupid glasses that framed that playful glint in his brown eyes. it didn't matter that he carried himself with an improved confidence that didn't come from a need for validation but from experience. he had changed. clearly he looked more mature, sure of himself—and that was definitely a turn-on, if not the biggest one. obviously, the way that his chest and shoulders looked broader helped, and let's not speak about the gray sweatpants that were hanging from his narrow waist like an invitation to jump right into your old habits.
"yeah, i'm not so sure if it fits me like it used to, but it works when i have nothing else to wear." you gave him a really slow once-over, his whole body still very close for your liking. maybe the problem wasn't that he was too close, but not close enough. in a way, it was true—the shirt used to swallow your whole body, and now it covered just half of your ass; you needed to wear shorts with it outside your bedroom. but the side meaning was obvious too, and by the bulge in his pants, steve clearly caught it. "you always liked when girls wore your clothes anyway." you brushed off the heavy innuendo like you were talking about the weather.
"yeah, i used to love when you wore my clothes..." he leaned against the kitchen island to look at you from an even angle, "didn't share them after you though..." you didn't expect such a confession in this flirty chat; the honest and clean look he threw you hitched your breath.
"oh, you didn't give nancy wheeler the privilege?" you mocked, with a sour tone. your moment of weakness was over.
"yeah, i'm not so sure if it fits me like it used to, but it works when i have nothing else to wear." you gave him a really slow once-over, his whole body still very close for your liking. maybe the problem wasn't that he was too close, but not close enough. in a way, it was true—the shirt used to swallow your whole body, and now it covered just half of your ass; you needed to wear shorts with it outside your bedroom. but the side meaning was obvious too, and by the bulge in his pants, steve clearly caught it. "you always liked when girls wore your clothes anyway." you brushed off the heavy innuendo like you were talking about the weather.
"yeah, i used to love when you wore my clothes..." he leaned against the kitchen island to look at you from an even angle, "didn't share them after you though..." you didn't expect such a confession in this flirty chat; the honest and clean look he threw you hitched your breath.
"oh, you didn't give nancy wheeler the privilege?" you mocked, with a sour tone. your moment of weakness was over.
your sister saved him; she closed the front door and dragged her feet into the kitchen. "hey, guys. everything alright?" she asked while closing the distance with you. "steve, you really need to wear winter clothes, kid. it's freezing outside and you came in with a tank top?" she scolded him like she used to do when you were teenagers. "how's his face?" she turned her attention to you, "he needs to ice his cheek; it's gonna bruise awfully."
"well, i was sleeping, allie. didn't know i needed to change outfits to help you out." he responded with his typical sarcastic demeanor. yeah, the old steve was still there.
"well, maybe you need to fish your old pajamas out of your closet..." she suggested.
"i agree." the tank top was very distracting.
"look who's talking, miss 'i deal with drunk fellas in tiny shorts'." you couldn't control the snort that came out of you as alice punched him with the ice pack she was retrieving from the fridge.
"stop staring at my little sis's ass, you perv!" she groaned with an indignant face. it was weird for her to imagine you both together; the time you dated, she was away in college. when she came back, you were no longer a couple.
"with all due respect..." he started.
"oh my god, stev—" you tried to stop what he was going to say.
"...i've been staring at your sister's cute ass since puberty hit me." you giggled, mostly as a reaction to alice's disgusted face.
"oh my god! stop! i can't take this... it is disgusting to think about your teenage selves in a romantic relationship."
"well, it's a good thing you weren't around for it then..." you offered her a little bit of comfort.
"it was definitely a good thing for us, allie." a sly smirk was what steve offered, insinuating many scenarios for your sister's imagination.
"ugh, harrington! get out of my house, perv!"
you both laughed at her antics, but you felt a truck hit you when he hugged alice's side by the shoulders and planted a kiss on her hair. it pained you a bit how close he seemed to be with your family, even in your absence. he was always adored in your parents' household; your mothers used to be very close and he was always around. maybe that's why jason seemed so jealous of him—of his friendship with your sister.
when you were younger, falling in love had felt meant to be. breaking up came from nowhere—at least for you.
"okay, ladies... your knight will leave you to it. if you guys need something, don't hesitate to knock on my door." he said while he stretched his back like he was getting ready to run a marathon. "and you..." he crowded you again, "...put some joggers on, bun." a soft kiss on your temple almost broke your walls. you were so weak for this asshole.
he brushed his hand on your waist while passing behind you; the touch was so subtle that your sister, who was very close, didn't notice it. what she did notice was the shiver it caused in your body.
"get home safe!" she said while he was walking toward the front door.
"hey, bun. remember that the old things can always help you if needed, okay?" he threw the double-meaning comment back at you and left your house with a wink. "whatever it is, i'm just across the street!"
dreams sometimes were a cruel thing; you decided.
when the sunlight started creeping into your room, heating your exposed arms and face, you cursed your sister internally for sending your curtains to the cleaning service. the moment you felt an arm snugged around your waist tighten its hold around you, you froze. beneath your shirt; a hand was pressed againts your belly as an attempt to keep you in place.
your head felt fizzy and thick from sleep, like your brain was still caught in a fog. you were still trying to make sense of the world when the reality of your position hit you. you could feel the firm press of a chest against your back, and a heavy leg was snugged firmly between your own, anchoring you to the mattress.
you breathed in, and your lungs filled with the familiar, earthy tang of sandalwood. it was the same perfume you’d bought him for christmas back when you first started dating. he used to insist on putting it on before bed, claiming he liked how it lingered on the sheets. the scent was so tied to him, and so ingrained in your brain, that it tempted you to go back to unconsciousness, feeling safe around his perfume and the heat that guarded you from the outside world.
however, the sun against your face was disturbing. you tried to turn away, but his raspy, sleep-thickened voice brushed against your ear, stopping you in your tracks.
"baby...stay still, it's so early." it caught you off guard, stopping you mid-turn and leaving you breathless. the low vibration of steve's voice sent a jolt straight down your spine, pinning you to the spot before you could even think about moving. "...stop wiggling."
you decided to indulge a little bit, and as you shimmied closer to him, you became acutely conscious of the hardness pressing into your back. he groaned into your neck, and his breathing touched your skin, making you shiver. "don't start something we cannot finish, bun."
your inner walls clenched around nothing and you whimpered softly, noticing how your arousal was, in fact, coating your underwear.
"what's that, bunny? what is it, hmm?" his voice felt alluring; your brain couldn't keep up yet. the heat created by your bodies and the blankets was overwhelming. you almost wished he would squeeze you into his grasp a little more. "are you feeling needy? is that it?" he nudged his nose tenderly against the sensitive skin beside your ear, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. you did not answer but grabbed the hand tucked beneath your t-shirt with both of yours and dragged it down your body. the intention was clear.
a low, vibrating chuckle started in his chest, rumbling against your back before he finally gave in. he didn't pull away; instead, he hooked his chin over your shoulder, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "show me, bunny..." he murmured, his voice almost a whisper against your skin as he locked one of your hands with his. "teach me how i can make you feel good..."
"please, stevie," your breath hitched, a small, broken sound escaping your throat. you tilted your head back, exposing your bitten lips to him; you wanted a kiss so bad, but he moved his head back a little, avoiding it.
"nu-uh," he murmured. "c'mon baby, i'm trying to help you out here... show me." your back arched unconsciously, sending your hips to seek that desperately needed friction against his crotch. "...now you're just being greedy, bun."
you were literally burning up; you couldn't recall another occasion being this aroused, your juices dampening your thong in an embarrassing way. steve snaked his other arm behind your neck, supporting his weight on his elbow and bringing your mouth within his reach. he brushed his thumb against your lips, pulling your lower lip from your teeth. you kissed it. "oh, my princess just wants a kiss, doesn't she?"
he lowered his head and pecked your lips; it was so quick you couldn't even react. "i really want to help you, baby. why don't you let me, huh? show me how you want me to take care of you..."
you squeezed his hand, your fingers intertwining with his as you guided his palm firmly against the damp cotton of your underwear. "so fucking soaked, bun... must be torture."
he guided his hand—and yours—under your panties to touch the wetness directly at its source.
"...okay, pretty. is this where you wanted me? is your pussy aching? hmm?" the knuckles of your intertwined hands started brushing the skin between your lips, and the need for more friction made you grind down against your joined hands.
"uh-huh," you moaned when his thumb brushed your clit.
"you look so hot right now, baby..." he indulged in another kiss, and this time he took his time, his lips sliding against yours as his tongue tangled with your own.
the hands working at your pussy distracted you as his index finger, guiding yours, started pressing at your entrance.
the loud moan you let out into his mouth was enough for him to silence you. "we need to be quiet, bunny... there's kids in the house."
both fingers eased their way inside your cunt; the friction was exquisite. the in-and-out movements were flowing perfectly. your bottom lip returned to its trapped position under your teeth as you tried to stifle your moans.
steve had you in a kind of soft headlock, keeping your head close to his; in a way, it was his anchor.
"i'm so hard, baby...you drive me crazy." he panted against your ear, his breath fanning the sweat on your neck. "i could come just from hearing those filthy noises. do you hear them? you're making such a mess." the wet noises were filthy, as he said. your walls clenched at his words. "oh, do you like that? do you like the dirty noises of your juices?" he asked, and the pace of his fingers speeded up. "does my girl want to come, hmm?"
"oh, baby... it breaks my heart to deny such pretty pleas," he said against your lips. his hand tightened its grip on yours, forcing your hands to stop as your joined fingers slipped out of your cunt.
"w-wha—... what are you doing?" you cried out.
i know... i know, baby. but... it's such a shame to waste that perfect cunt like this," he said as he pulled your locked hands close to your mouth. "...here, taste yourself, pretty."
you did, without a doubt. your mouth received both fingers and sucked at them—cleaning them.
"so sexy, bunny... those doe eyes kill me every time."
you moaned, still with your mouth full. "i need that too, you know? i need to taste you."
he moved quickly; in the blink of an eye, he was under the blankets with his head between your legs. one of your hands obeyed and covered your mouth when he whispered, "we need to be quiet, remember?"
you were desperate; so when he ducked his head, your other hand flew to his hair, trying to push him toward your cunt. your hips moved too, trying to grind against his face.
"what did i say about being greedy, pretty?"
"i-i'm sorry," you breathed, the words barely audible behind the hand still pressed firmly over your mouth.
"...such a good girl for me...it's okay baby; i know you need me, okay? i'm gonna take care of you." he said while leaving kisses in your inner tights.
the first press of his tongue was warm and agonizingly slow, he started swirling his tongue against your clit with a deliberate rhythm that made your toes curl into the sheets. you choked back a sob, your hand pressing so hard against your mouth.
"shhh," you heard him mumble against your skin, the vibration of his voice sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you. "taste so good, bunny...always so good for me; perfect cunt, sweetest noises...my perfect girl."
he quickened the pace, his tongue working with a relentless, rhythmic pressure now against your core that made your vision blur. your walls tightened further, chasing the friction of his tongue until you were vibrating with the effort not to scream. you bit back a sob, your palm pressed so hard against your face that it muffled the high, broken moan that escaped when you finally snapped. your hips bucked upward, seeking more, and you felt him catch your weight, his hands locking onto your thighs to keep you still as you came in a silent, shaking wreck against him.
"oh my god, steve! oh my god..." you were falling. you had never thrown yourself from great heights, but this definitely felt like it. you felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest when the falling sensation became too real.
at that moment your eyes opened and the sunlight entering from your window blinded you.
so yeah, dreams were a wicked thing, and you were fucked. the sweat made steve's t-shirt stick to the skin of your back; your throat was dry from the panting, and your underwear was ruined.
you’d only seen steve once and you were already a mess. you just wished he had it in him, because that dream was nothing like how it used to be when you were together. the flashes of it in your head made your legs tremble, and you thought that maybe it would be good if his offer—and his reminder that he lived just across the street—was still standing.
maybe—and just maybe—you would take him up on it.
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