2p!Austria x Mom!Reader- Foster parent

One

You groaned as you wrapped both hands around your large mug of coffee and dragged your feet from the dinning room, toward the hall. You stopped behind the couch in the living room and leaned against it as you sipped the steaming beverage.

From down the hall, a door opened and swung closed. The sound of irritable grumbles and heavy footsteps followed it. You smiled some as you watched your youngest son trot down the hall.

"Morning, Lutz," you said to him in a pleasant but low mumble.

He sighed as he stopped and leaned his back against the wall in front of you. "Hey, ma," he said in a similar low tone.

"Gil, sweetie," you called in the biggest voice you could muster so early in the morning after a long, late night of drinking. Needless to say, it wasn't much louder than your conversational tone. "Are you ready to go?"

Another door in the house opened. "Y-yes, ma'am," you oldest responded to you as he rushed out of his room.

You sipped your coffee as Gilligan stood beside his brother, and Lutz straightened up off of the wall before slouching.

"Bookbags," you said.

Lutz tugged on the shoulder strap to his, and Gilligan held his up.

"Keys."

They each held up a key.

"Homework."

"Finished," Gil said.

Lutz stayed quiet.

You rubbed a bit of sleep out of your eyes and yawned, "Alright. Dismissed."

The two headed out the door and to the bus stop. You trudged your way over to the dining room and eased into one of the padded chairs before you tossed your legs up into the chair beside you.

One of the three cats in your house startled you when she hopped up into your lap. "Oh!" You switched your mug over to one hand so you could pet the cat with the other as she circled on your legs to get comfortable. "Morning, Mitty."

A relaxed breath slipped from you as you sunk more into your seat and began to vent to the little orange tabby. "That will be the last time I challenge Nancy to a drinking contest. My god, that girl's alcohol tolerance is ridiculous." You rubbed your forehead as it throbbed in pain.

You winced as your phone rang and vibrated before you slowly dug around in your pocket for it. Your mood dropped further once you saw the name displayed across the screen, but you answered it anyway. "What do you want, Lenard?"

"Morning, (name)," he sang to you in that sickeningly sweet voice of his that you hated to love.

You cringed and said in a slow, annoyed tone, "What. The fuck. Do you want, Lenard?"

He laughed some. "For you not to call me Lenard. That would be great."

You sighed. "Alright then, bitch. Solved that. Now the fuck did you call me for?"

"Okay," he said before he let out a quick breath. "Question. On a scale of one to ten, one being you don't care and ten being super pissed, how mad would you be if I asked you to watch Roderich for awhile?"

You sat your cup down and rubbed your face with your now free hand. "...Boy," you said in a quiet voice. "Don't even try to step to me with that fuck shit."

"So, like a three?"

You closed your eyes as your teeth clinched together. "What the fuck do I look like taking care of your kid?" you asked in a louder tone than you thought possible with your current hangover. "Hmm? Do I look like a fucking babysitter? A nanny? I sure as hell don't look like that boy's mama! So why in the fuck—!"