❰𝟰.𝟭.𝟭❱ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ➣ {𝕡•𝕡} ❘ [ 𝖓𝖜𝖍 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 ]

🕷❘ Ⲧⲏⲅⲉⲉ ❘ 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋

˚ ༘ ⌇ 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟷 ༉‧₊

═∘♡༉∘ ═

"Congratulations, Mr. Strange," the doctor held the newborn baby in her hands after cleaning up and wrapping the baby in a bundle of sheets, "It's a girl,"

After about 45 minutes of operating a C-section, Jasmine L/N finally gave birth to her first daughter.

Y/N Jasmine Strange

"Stephen, what're you doing?" Jasmine raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, watching him lift his shirt and press the baby in his arm against his bare skin.

"Skin-to-skin contact is vital in neonatal units where it is often known as 'kangaroo care'. Here it helps parents bond with their baby and supports better physical and developmental outcomes for the baby," he replied huffily, raising his chin as he bounced in his place, cradling you in his arms, "Kind of like how we did," he smirked, "If you know what I mean,"

Jasmine let out a tired chuckle, not even bothering to tell him off.

"Doctor Strange," a nurse near the electrocardiograph gave him a look at his inappropriate comment, "This is a hospital—"

"I'm aware, thank you very much for your insight," Stephen shot back sassily, his sole focus on the newborn daughter in his arms.

The nurse only glared at him, striding past him with a deep breath.

"What am I gonna do if Y/N has your attitude and sarcasm," Jasmine pouted, reaching out to caress your cheek with the back of her hand, smiling fondly when you cooed at her and wrapped your small, nimble fingers around her pointer finger.

"She will," Stephen stated proudly, "I'll make sure of that,"

"Right," Jasmine rolled her eyes, reaching behind her to adjust the pillow.

"Wait, let me," Stephen offered to help, not wanting her to strain much, given that she was in labor for around 8 hours.

Muttering a small thank you, Jasmine did a double-take when she noticed him staring at her with a lopsided smile, his hand resting on the side of her face as his thumb caressed her cheek.

"Why're you staring at me like that, creepo?" she narrowed her eyes at him playfully.

"Nothing," he shook his head, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "Just very grateful for my girls,"

"Aw," Jasmine sniffed, waving a hand in front of her face to stop the tears welling in her eyes, "Don't make me cry 'cause I can't blame it on the pregnancy hormones anymore,"

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One minute everything was just fine. Both Jasmine and Y/N, are safe and sound in front of him. It was just him and his girls.

But in another, everything had turned on itself. Stephen couldn't make the head or tails of it.

Jasmine. She was in critical condition. A blood clot in her right lung caused suffocation and her body went under seizure.

The electrocardiograph spike with unstable heart rate; her body jerked about horrifically, each hit of seizure only snapped an ounce of life out of her.

A long beep made Stephen turn towards the heart monitor; feel dread cloud his mind at the flatline. Darting his eyes back to Jasmine, his gut twisted painfully, finding her head lolled to the side and lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry, Stephen," the gynaecologist apologized to him, tears forming in his own eyes.

Stephen hugged his newborn closer to his chest, stifling a sob as he watched the nurses cover Jasmine's corpse with a sheet; the weight of the velvet box with the diamond ring in his pocket feeling heavy with agony and grief.

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