Emo Trinity x Reader (Book 2)

Joe Trohman x Reader - Staying Up

Summary: The fans are worried after Joe looked very tired at an award show, so he clarifies things
Reader: implied female, but not necessarily.
Word count: 1 449
A/N: had this idea after I saw some pics of fob at an award show and pictures of joe with his daughters. Also: Happy belated Birthday, Joe. I didn't forget you. I'm actually wearing a shirt with your face on it as I'm proof reading

A smile was stretching over your face as you opened Instagram that morning, and found your feed filled with pictures of Fall Out Boy at last night's award show. It had been the first time in years that you had not accompanied your husband Joe to the event, but your three months old daughter had a cold, and you wanted to make sure she had you around. Also you could not risk having whoever would jump in as a baby sitter to get ill; that would just be unfair. Not to mention that Rosie just was crying all the time and not being quiet for one second, unless someone was carrying her around.

Admittedly, you were a little sad that you had not been able to accompany Joe, had not even managed to stay up late to welcome him home. But he had assured you that it was fine. He knew how tired you were with Rosie terrorising you the whole time, and when he had found you tight asleep on the couch, Rosie sleeping on your belly, he had only carefully covered both of you with a soft blanket.

Now you were sitting at the breakfast table. Rosie had woken you up at 5am, and after you had checked if Joe had gotten home, you had carried the baby through the house for almost two hours, feeding her, changing her dippers, trying to make everything as comfortable as possible for her, but she was just in a bad mood, being sick and all.

So after you had gotten her to fall asleep around 8am, you finally allowed yourself some breakfast. Rosie was lying in the crib in the dining room, Joe was, just like the world outside, still asleep, and you finally got a few quiet moments for yourself. And looking at pictures from last night, seemed the best way to spend it. Some of the pictures had been posted by the official Fall Out Boy Instagram, some by Pete, Andy had posted a couple of snaps too, and some photographers, as well as other musicians you were following had taken photos, and published them, too.

You scrolled through your Fall Out Boy dominated feed, and could not help but smile. Damn, Joe had really looked good. He always did, but when he was wearing a suit... that was always something different. With a chuckle you shook your head. Sitting at breakfast, crushing on pictures of a musician, like back in high school, you thought. Only that now that musician was actually lying in your bed, and you were married. Hell, you would not want it any different.

Stopping at the next picture of the band, you noticed how tired Joe looked. He had tried to help you loads with Rosie, and you had a feeling he had been staying up at night to keep her company so you could sleep.

And sure enough, you were not the only one who had noticed the dark circles under Joe's eyes. Not only in the comment section of this picture, but in many others as well, you found an increasing number of fans commenting on how worn out Joe looked. Some worried about whether he was getting enough sleep; others theorized he was sick, saying he should get some proper rest.

It touched you, seeing the fans worrying, but there really was no reason too, as far as you knew. So just when you wanted to take a note to tell Joe he should maybe address the fan's worries about his health, Rosie started crying again, and you quickly hurried over to the crib to calm her down.

You only remembered the whole thing in the evening, when Joe, who had gotten up soon after Rosie had started crying, had told you to go to bed, because you were obviously drop dead tired.

"Hey, that reminds me," you turned around to Joe, who was trying to get Rosie's little fingers out of his curls, "I saw some people worrying about you on Instagram this morning; you looked pretty tired yesterday evening."

"Really," Joe looked up to you, for a moment allowing his daughter to pull on his hair, which he quickly regretted once she pulled too hard.

"Yeah, they think you're sick or something," you took in his appearance.

The idea did not come out of nowhere. He did look tired and a little pale, but other than that he showed no signs of illness. But then again he was good at hiding it, like the time he had insisted on going to your parents' silver wedding, even though he had been seriously ill, but he had pretended it was only a little cold. And the next day he had been so sick that he had been unable to get out of bed, and you had to stay at your parents' house for almost a week until he was well enough to travel.

"You're not sick, are you?"

You added the question, just to be sure, having learnt not to trust him blindly in that matter.

He chuckled lowly, finally managing to get the little sticky baby fingers of Rosie out of his curls.

"No, I'm not, just tired," he assured you with a soft smile.

"Maybe you should, I don't know, send a quick tweet or something, so the fans can stop worrying," you suggested, making him nod.

"Want to film a quick video," he suggested, making you laugh.

"The way I look? Rather not," you giggled.

Rosie looked over to you in confusion.

"You look amazing, come here," Joe insisted.

Knowing he would not let it go until you gave in, and too tired to put up a fight, you walked over to the sofa, and sat down, Joe sitting down closely next to you, handing Rosie to you so he could film a short message.

"Hey guys," he greeted, after he had pressed record, "(y/n) said that some of you've been worrying about me 'cause I looked super tired yesterday. But I can promise you it's all fine."

He got interrupted by some incomprehensible babbling from Rosie, which made both of you smile, and you quickly turned her so she was looking over your shoulder.

"Yeah, exactly," Joe laughed, as if he was agreeing to what Rosie had been sharing with you, "well, actually this little thing there," he pointed to his daughter, "is the reason I, we," he gestured between you and him, "are super exhausted. Rosie's been sick, and I thought it would just be fair to be looking after her during the night so her mummy here," he demonstratively wrapped his arm around your shoulder, "could get a little sleep as well. So that's all there is. I'm fine, Rosie's got a cold, but we're all three super tired."

"I'll make sure he gets some sleep soon," you added with a smile, unable to supress the little glance over to your husband who was trying not to yawn.

"Okay, I guess that's about it, Trohmans out, good night."

Joe pressed the red button again, stopping the recording, and finally allowed himself to yawn.

Quickly he posted the video on Instagram and Twitter, with a short caption before he turned back to you. You were already half asleep, Rosie, magically, also quiet for once. Maybe the cold was finally getting better.

"Hey darling, let's go to bed," Joe suggested, and took the sleepy baby from you, carrying her into the bedroom.

You followed soon after, finding that Joe had already placed her in the little extension of your bed, which allowed you to reach over to her, or even to pull her into your bed, during the night, without having to get up.

Rosie was tight asleep, her eyes closed, her breathing regular, her little fists closed tightly.

"Finally," Joe sighed, sitting down on his side of the bed, and falling back against the soft pillow.

"Don't jinx it," you warned with a smile, and crawled into bed next to him.

Like a reflex, years of sharing a bed having trained him, Joe wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you into him. You suspected that it was some kind of conditioning, that you felt safe and loved and happy the second you were able to bury your nose in his shirt, but on the other hand it was Joe, so it was very possible that it was simply his mere presence that caused this reaction.

You closed your eyes, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent of your husband, listening to the quiet breathing of your daughter and Joe's steady heartbeat, and before you even knew it, you had fallen asleep in his arms.