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the-chosen-fanfiction · 26 days ago

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Matthew | All Your Curves And Edges | Romantic

Your body is changing a lot due to your pregnancy. Matthew wouldn’t have it any other way.

Requested by Belle

Even though he has left his old life behind in favour of following Jesus, the luxurious house that Matthew had given to his parents still remains in the circulation when it comes to running the ministry. First, it had belonged to Alphaeus and Elisheva, since Matthew had left without another word and ordered Gaius to hand them the key, which they had kept inside a small box on the mantlepiece, not knowing what to do with it. Once they reconciled more than a year later, it had become the headquarters of the anointing oil business that Zebedee had set up.

From there, you had been able to run it alongside the other women of the group during the time that the Disciples were sent out two by two. Back then, you had still been so convinced that Matthew was romantically interested in Mary of Magdalene, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth. It had been around that same time that Matthew had confessed his feelings to you, but not without a necessary admittance from yourself first. To find out that he reciprocated the sentiment had changed your life for the better, forever.

So now, two years after Jesus has gone up to His Father in heaven, it is strange to come back to that same villa in Capernaum. In spite of the place sitting empty for so long, no squatters have broken in to live inside of it. It seems that Praetor Gaius has kept an eye on the place, large sheets of textile covering the furniture to protect it from dust and rot, the blinds drawn shut.

Your then betrothed, now husband, pulls aside the curtains and lets the light stream inside. The place looks as if it has been frozen in time. A fond smile plays over your lips as you drink it all in. So much had changed ever since you were here the last time. And as far as you and Matthew are concerned, it might as well be one of the final times you are visiting this place, for he has decided to sell it once and for all, so that you can use the finances to fund your ministry as well as the upcoming family life that is at hand.

“Why don’t you go take a seat, love?” Matthew suggests, “I’ll make you something to eat.”

With a hand under your bulging stomach, you lean against one of the pillars for support whilst Matthew rummages about in the kitchen. Life is so much different right now, you think to yourself, reminiscing on the moments you’ve spent here in the past. Everyone has branched out into different areas of the world, preaching the Good News to anyone who has ears to hear. Even though you miss Jesus’ presence amongst you, the Holy Spirit has filled you all with newfound vigour and trust in the Lord. Your faith is stronger than ever.

When you feel a restless kick, you sigh and decide to walk around for a bit, looking at the knick-knacks that still adorn the windowsills and tables. There still hangs a heady scent of incense that makes your head hurt a little, so you make your way towards the upstairs area, Matthew still busy making the two of you something to drink and eat, having purchased some fresh produce from the market earlier.

It takes you a little effort to ascend the stairs and you stay at the top of them for a while to catch your breath, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Once your legs feel strong enough again, you waddle towards the room you knew to be his old bedroom, deciding to maybe take a little nap there. You are certain that Matthew would find you here once he figures out that you aren’t downstairs anymore.

Another kick has you laugh softly with a hint of pain lacing through. “Easy, little one,” you sigh, gently rubbing your stomach. You enter the bedroom, walking over to the plush bed that you had fallen asleep on in the past more often than once, when you walk by a mirror.

You had caught your own reflection only a few times ever since you have fallen pregnant in the water of a creek or in a polished silver platter, but… Not the full picture. Freezing in your place, you eye yourself, and more specifically, the bulging expanse of your seven-month-pregnant tummy.

Not only that has increased in size. Your chest and upper arms are definitely a bit bigger than before, your tunic tighter than you remember it to be. Your face is a bit puffy, but this you had known. Your ankles, too, from where fluid retention has begun in your legs due to your current state.

Your heart drops at the sight. Have you really been walking around looking like this? Your face suddenly warms in shame as your eyes flit over your own reflection, your breaths growing more shallow.

Another thought hits you hard and square in the chest. Right now, you might be allowed to look like this, since you are pregnant, but what will become of you once your baby has been born? Will your body remain like this, chubbier than before, with more skin around your limbs and around your stomach, where it will forever be visible that you’ve borne a child? The stretch marks that you’ve been noticing on your skin lately suddenly feel like a burden.

Older women had often said that their bodies had never been the same again after childbirth, and even though you had believed them beforehand, it is now a truth that makes you terrified.

Tears blur your vision and shield you from witnessing the sight any longer. Staggering back, you sit down when the back of your knees hits the bed, panic swelling inside your hammering chest.

“(Y/n)?” Matthew’s concerned voice bounces off the walls and reaches you upstairs, the last thing you really need. You squeeze your eyes shut and attempt to call out that you are fine, but no sound comes from your mouth. When footsteps approach you, you know that there is no way out of this conversation.

Finding you in tears, Matthew frowns deeply at the worrying sight. “My love?” he croaks, rushing over to your side. He kneels in front of you, immediately grabbing hold of your hand, and he gives you a once-over. “My love, are you alright? What’s going on?”

You shake your head slightly, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth. You bite it so hard that you taste iron. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“It’s just…” you sniffle, nearly unable to speak due to how tight your throat feels. “This… This body!” you gesture at your tummy, “This ugly fat body!”

A line forms in Matthew’s brow. “What are you talking about? What do you mean?”

You dare to meet his gaze, albeit tearfully. “Look at the size of it! How round it is— Do you think I’ll ever bounce back to what I was before? Never in a thousand years! Once this child is out of me, I will be fat and disgusting and—”

Matthew cuts you off by putting a hand over your mouth. “Stop talking,” he commands, giving you a stern look. “Let’s backtrack, okay?”

It is a form of communication that you and your husband had implemented to avoid miscommunication. With the former tax collector’s struggles when it comes to assessing social situations, the two of you have come up with a way to figure out how to understand each other better. It consists of either of you asking to backtrack, so that you could sketch the situation as you interpreted it, and the other party could either agree or clarify what they meant. So far, it had worked wonders for your marriage.

You nod at him, your bottom lip quivering a little. “So,” Matthew begins, “What I am understanding from your words and from your tears, is that you think your body is bigger than it was before, and you are afraid that it will not be beautiful once you’ve given birth?”

Sniffling, you hum. “Yes,” you hiccough, “And I am terrified that I will disgust you.”

That physically takes Matthew by surprise and he nearly exclaims his answer to that notion.

“What?! Disgust me?! (Y/n), how could you ever think…” He looks at you pleadingly, with these large dark puppy dog eyes that you had fallen in love with all these years ago. “My love, you are the most beautiful, the most breathtaking and the most incredible woman I have ever met in my entire life, and no one will ever come even close to you when it comes to what you mean to me. Every time I look at you, I—I just—” He lets out a shaky breath. “I still get shy!”

Chewing your lip, you let your eyes search his face for any sign of deception, even though you are well aware that you will find none to begin with. You begin picking at your own nails, insecurity shining through in the action. “How can you possibly know that beforehand?” you whisper, “You might change your mind.” Your hands fiddle in your lap.

Matthew gently taps your chin to make you look up at him. “Remember what I told you before, about what went through my head when I first met you?”

You cannot fight the abashed smile at the fond memory. “Yes,” you breathe, reminiscing on the moment. “You thought I was—”

“—An angel, yes,” he says with a smile, “Even more beautiful so. And you still are. Honestly, you are more beautiful to me every single day, because I somehow love you even deeper with every passing moment.”

Your heart swells at the words your husband directs towards you; you know that Matthew has struggled with embracing his emotions in general, so the fact that he is so open and vulnerable with you about what you mean to him speaks volumes.

“You are everything and then so much more. Every time I see you, you take my breath away, (Y/n). Every time I touch you, I get so overwhelmed with the fact that you chose me, out of all the people, in spite of my past, you decided you wanted this life with me. To marry me, to build a family with me. I cherish every single part about you.”

Your eyes shimmer with new tears, this time out of gratitude and happiness. Matthew isn’t exaggerating; he isn’t the type for it, so you know his words to be spoken from the heart. “And I will make sure to tell you that every single day, that all your flaws and imperfections are so loved, because they are part of you, and there is not one single thing I would change about you, my beautiful, gorgeous wife.”

The response that leaves you is a shaky sob behind a watery smile, and you stand up to embrace him. “Oh, Matthew. I… I’m sorry— I didn’t want to doubt you.”

“I didn’t interpret it that way,” he reassures you. “From what I can tell, it just seems you are worried about all the changes we both are going through now that the baby is so close to being born, and all the uncertainties that come with parenthood. I feel overwhelmed, too.”

You can almost hear your own words reflected in his, the ones you had so often whispered in his ear whenever his emotions confused him. The bond you two had forged over the years was indestructible, strengthened by your unwavering faith. This time around, he was the one comforting you. He’d ease your children’s fears like that, too. Everything was coming full circle.

Inhaling his scent, you sigh and relax in his arms. You wish you could stay in this moment forever. Matthew kisses your cheek, your forehead, before chastely pecking your lips. When his hands protectively rest on your tummy, you pull away from the kiss and smile at him softly.

“I love you, Matthew,” you murmur, rubbing your nose against his own.

A faint blush creeps over his cheeks. “And I love you, more than anything,” he answers you, “My heart.”

That makes you melt even further into him, the two of you tangling into another intimate embrace, your soft breaths wafting against the crook of his neck, his fingers gently taking off your veil so that they can play with your hair, carefully scratching at your scalp.

The moment only ends when a sharp kick pulls you out of it, and both of you chuckle at the visible movement underneath your dress. “Oh, someone is hungry.”

“Good thing I finished preparing a nice meal,” Matthew tells you, taking your hand into his and kissing your knuckles. “Now, my love, will you join me for dinner downstairs?”

You hum, searching his face for a few meaningful moments. As much as you adore the fact that you’ve got a little one on the way and that you are starting a family with him, part of you is going to miss these silent, shared moments of intimacy between the two of you.

You will cherish every second as much as you’ve been enjoying your life together so far, both terrified and excited about what the future holds. With a small nod, you go, ready to share a meal with him.

#the chosen #reader insert #the chosen x reader #chosen x reader #the chosen matthew x reader #the chosen matthew #matthew x reader

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the-chosen-fanfiction · 13 days ago

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Matthew | Right Time | Romantic

After the attempt at Jesus’ life at the Temple Square, Matthew learns that there is no other perfect time than here and now.

Requested by Kacey

Jesus had warned you that it was coming, but it doesn’t scare you any less. As your time alongside the Messiah progresses and the ministry grows more serious overtime, for Jesus gains notoriety around the lands of Judea, Samaria and far beyond, it is only a matter of time before things start to become truly perilous.

The first moment you witnessed a moment of real threat to the lives of either Jesus Himself or His followers was during the encounter at the Temple Square in the holiest city Jerusalem. The teachers of the Law who claimed to intend the best for the people of Israel had gathered rocks as large as your hand to hurl at the Messiah and His Disciples.

Matthew had not been directly in the line of fire, and nor had you been standing there. Still, it shook both of you to the core. Suddenly, the thought of losing one another was more real than it ever had been.

The two of you had been sweet on each another since long before deciding to follow Jesus, although your affections had taken place from a distance. Matthew had always admired your beauty and grace whenever you traversed the village and you had always been in wonder of his incredible mind, seeing more than anyone that there was something different about him, setting him apart in the best way.

The mutual pining turned into a careful relationship between the pair of you, where you spent time together as often as the ministry allowed it. The other Disciples have been watching you with great interest, curious to see how things will turn out.

There is no doubt about the chemistry or attraction between you and Matthew. However, the former tax collector had never dared to approach you directly about things.

Now that you’ve looked death in the eye, no matter how briefly, he realises that things may need to change and that there is no use in holding back anymore.

You jolt when Matthew finds you fixing tunics one morning. The comfort of the watery sun has brought you little solace. Ever since that day of the attempted stoning, you’ve been skittish.

“Are you okay?” Matthew questions as he sits next to you. In his lap, he settles his wax tablet, obviously having written a lot today. The son of Alphaeus is attempting to take things off his mind as well, whereas you have tried to do the same by stitching up clothes.

“I’m alright,” you mutter, even though it is obvious that the recent event has gotten to you.

“I understand,” Matthew sees through you. “I’ve been afraid, too.”

Letting out a sigh, you know that denying it is of no use. “We were lucky that only James came out of it with a minor injury,” you whisper, dropping the needle in your lap, for suddenly your fingers tremble so badly that you cannot hold it any longer.

Matthew swallows hard as he sees your nerves; getting used to social cues still, he wonders how to comfort you properly, especially since you are so important to him. “There, there.” It sounds strained, but at the same time a wave of affection shunts through you as he reaches out and gently pats your shoulder, although in a way that is reminiscent of petting a horse.

You give him a wry smile; attempt to make it look real, for he deserves nothing short of that, but your worries get the better of you and simmer in the (e/c) of your eyes. Matthew clears his throat and scoots a little closer. “I’ve been thinking about it as well,” he confesses, “About the stoning. As you said, we came out relatively unscathed. It plagues me at night nevertheless.”

Nodding in agreement, you begin fiddling with the thread that you’ve pulled from the eye of the needle. “This time, it was just… Only this. But next time, what if they hit Jesus? What if He gets hurt? Concussed? What if you…” You gulp when you realise you’re letting on quite a lot, but decide you’re in the deep end already, “What if you get injured?”

“I’ve been wondering the same. But— About you, I mean. Not about myself, of course. That would be very selfish of me… Uh…” Matthew clears his throat and scratches behind his ear. “(Y/n), I… I’m not sure what we can do to make that fear… Go away. I’ve been praying about it.”

“So have I,” you say softly, biting your lip, “I… I think that talking about it goes a long way.”

Matthew hums and barely dares to look you in the eye. “I fear that things will only get worse from now on. If we’re banished from the Holy City like that, it is only a matter of time before they will find us in the smaller settlements. Word spreads like wildfire, and… Well, Jesus did say to be prepared for persecution…”

You know that Matthew has a point, and it doesn’t ease your nerves in any way. Of course it is not his intent to make you more anxious, but in the way you tense up, he notices your increasing worry. “I—I mean… Jesus never said anything about this ministry being safe, but at least we have Him, right? If God is… If the Messiah is with our souls, what can ever take us away from Him? You remember how fearless John went into his death, right? He… He said it didn’t matter. That’s what Philip told me.”

Taking in the words, you nod slowly, finding some comfort in them. “I wish I had a faith like John��s,” you whisper, “The way he so boldly lived for Jesus…” You sigh as you think back on the late Baptiser. “I wish I was so brave.”

“You are.” Matthew tells you. You give him a look, causing the former tax collector to take the leap and put his hand on top of yours. The two of you look at the spot where his fingers meet your own for a moment, before you turn your palm so that he can gently grab it. “Neither of us is like John, but that doesn’t mean that we aren’t courageous. We faced… We faced many threats, and we are still here. Alive and well, and… We… We have…”

He seems to want to say something crucial, your heart beginning to speed up inside your chest. His palm is a little clammy to the touch, as if he is nervous about something.

“Yes?”

“We have each other,” he whispers, “You and I. I— I mean, we also have the other followers, who are our friends, but we… You and I, we are a team as well, right? In as… Like… A romantic way.”

In spite of your anxiety, you feel your face heat up. Unable to fight your blush, you begin to smile. “We are.”

The son of Alphaeus shifts on the log and clears his throat. “Look, (Y/n)… I… I realised that there is no use in wasting time. Especially now.”

Tilting your head in puzzlement, you start to wonder what he is getting at. His dark eyes soften as they settle on you. “Hold on,” he whispers, “I’m trying to find the right words. Could you give me a minute?” You appreciate the way he voices his needs, so you nod, smiling patiently.

“All the time you need.”

The moment of silence gives you a while to reflect on what is going on, and the way Matthew’s hand is holding yours a little tighter now. Your fingers look good when laced together, your hand a bit smaller than his own, and you cannot help but feel your heart begin to pick up in speed. You have stopped fighting the butterflies a long time ago. They rage through your system in full swing.

“Do you remember when Jesus taught us that there is a right time for everything?”

“You mean His teaching from the book of Ecclesiastes?”

Matthew nods, looking up at you. “Right, that one… There is a time to sow and to reap, and a time to weep and a time to laugh. A time to keep and cast away, a time to mourn and to dance… Well, I am looking for an opportune time. I mean… I was looking for an opportune time.”

You frown. “An opportune time for what?”

He takes a deep inhale and bites his bottom lip. “—But I realised that there is no time more perfect than the present to…” Holding his breath, Matthew searches your face for an answer although he has not yet posed his question, as if you could read the query from his face, and when you look at him in puzzlement, he finishes the question at last:

“To ask you to marry me.”

All air is knocked from your lungs as you listen to what he is asking; were your ears deceiving you? You blink, letting the words digest. When you don’t immediately reply, Matthew mistakes it for rejection, attempting to release your hand. “I—I understand if not, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with that sudden question—”

“Yes,” you say, squeezing Matthew’s hand lest he pull it out of your grip. A large grin spreads over your face whilst his face falls into pure shock.

“What?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Matthew swallows hard, wondering if you are playing a prank on him. “Are you… I didn’t properly ask you yet, you know?” You laugh softly at the comment and nod slowly.

“Fair enough. Please, continue.”

The former tax collector takes another breath and resumes what he was going to tell you, feeling way more confident now that he knows the answer already. “Very well,” he mutters, “I realised that this moment is better than it ever will be, because the journey will only become more dangerous from now on. I don’t want to use it as an excuse to not propose to you, because I cannot stand the thought of losing you forever whilst never having taken the opportunity to ask, so…”

He inhales— Exhales, looks you right in the eye. He doesn’t look away as he squeezes your hand into a pulp, but you do not mind that ache in the slightest. “My dear (Y/n),” he whispers, “From the moment I saw you, I knew you would be more special to me than anyone else, ever. For years, I’ve watched you from my booth, feeling so ashamed of what I was doing to our own people, trying to lie to myself that I was doing an honourable job, even though it was hurting you… And then we properly met for the first time, after Jesus called me to follow Him. It was the best decision both of us have ever made… And much to my delight, something began to bloom between us.”

You smile, a dozen of fond memories immediately springing to the forefront of your mind. “Yes,” you breathe, “That was quite obvious right away, hm?”

Matthew nods and blushes. “Right,” he whispers, “And I began to realise that I wasn’t just in love with you anymore, but I began to love you. And Philip kept telling me to own up to my feelings because he was certain that you felt the same, and… Well, he was right.”

Laughing softly, you lower your gaze, blushing for a moment before lifting your eyes back up to his. “So… Just because this ministry will forever be our calling, it doesn’t mean we should go down that road entirely alone. Will you, (Y/n), daughter of Amos and Dinah… Do me the honours of becoming my wife, so that we may spread the Message of Jesus to the ends of the Earth, together, no matter where it will lead us?”

The words are so heart-felt that they make you tear up, and you begin to nod eagerly. “Oh, Matthew,” you whisper, gently cupping his face to press your forehead against his own, “I would love nothing more than that.”

“It’s settled, then.” Matthew laughs softly under his breath, misty-eyed himself. For a second, he considers whether he should kiss you, but decides he’d rather wait until things are properly arranged. “We should head back to Capernaum one of these days and get things figured out as soon as we can, because… Well, there is no point in waiting, right?”

You grin from ear to ear, a glow on your face as you embrace the former tax collector, happier than ever. “There is no point indeed. Let’s wait until we go back from Jerusalem, after Pesach.”

“Yes, let’s ask Jesus afterwards,” Matthew suggests, to which you thoroughly agree.

With your head against his shoulder, you enjoy the sunrise for a while longer.

Floating on air and already daydreaming about the wedding, neither of you know what is waiting for you ahead in Jerusalem, although this doesn’t mean that the day will never come.

#the chosen #the chosen x reader #reader insert #chosen x reader #the chosen matthew x reader #the chosen matthew #matthew x reader

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