your grammy finally answers the phone and says in such a crusty rusty dusty musty trusty thrusty nutty wutty dutty cruddy tuddy duddy puddy muddy huddy sussy mussy bussy nussy qussy zussy yussy busty cussy bussy wussy lussy hot voice, "hi Y/N, ive got some cassorole soup in the fridge." you soon realize that she isnt going to talk all hot to you, so you hang up.
as you finally pull up to your grammys house, you find that there are no other cars there. was i late, you ask yourself, wondering how your grammy must feel. you check the time on your crusty ass flip phone and find out that it in fact is 11:04! You rush up the driveway and knock on the door. suddenly, you see your grammy in a very thin bikini, standing in the doorway. "well. hello, Y/N. it seems that you're..."
you already knew what she was about to say.
"late."
YOU ARE READING
grandma x reader
Horroryour grandma invites you over for some cookies... or so you thought.
