Liz Gillies Requests

Bad Mood (Liz&Michael) - Request ★

~NOTES~
Okay, okay. How do we really feel about Adam Huber? Do you want an update for You're My Home? Just let me know. For the meantime, all your Mizabeth requests are so fun to write! Don't worry, this a lot more light hearted after last chapter, which again, I am very sorry for. I'm making it up to you now though with some comedic and hormonal pregnant Liz and a lot of very cute Mizabeth fluff. Enjoy :)

Liz's POV
I walk downstairs after waking up.

"Hey, you're awake." Michael starts. "I was just about to come up and check that you hadn't dissolved under all those blankets."

"Don't even start." I groan, holding my hand up.

"Ooh, what's the drama today?" Michael asks, smiling.

"You're already on thin ice and it's very early in the morning." I say.

"Actually, it's the afternoon. Someone slept in." Michael teases.

"I am not in the mood for you, Michael." I say, supporting my baby bump.

"What happened between last night and you waking up now?" Michael asks.

"I'm in a bad mood, okay. Now please go away." I say.

"You don't mean that." Michael smiles, ruffling up my hair.

"Really, I do." I huff.

"Really? Really? Really?" Michael teases, twirling my hair around his finger.

"Yes." I say through gritted teeth.

"Oh, hun. You feel pretty warm." Michael says, holding his palm against my forehead.

"It's because I'm about to drop kick my husband." I threaten.

"That's one for the books! My heavily pregnant wife just threatened to drop kick me." Michael laughs.

"I'll do it." I warn.

"Go on, darling. Dare you." Michael grins.

"Actually get out." I say, pointing to the kitchen door.

"Actually?" Michael asks.

"Yes!" I shout.

"As in actually, actually? As opposed to just getting out, you would like me to actually get out?" Michael asks.

"You are in the red zone on the pregnancy tolerance scale." I tell him.

"Damn. I've only ever been on red once and that was when I went to the grocery store and forgot the one thing you asked me for, which happened to be your craving that day. That was a bad afternoon." Michael says.

"Exactly, and you don't want a repeat of that afternoon. There's the door." I gesture to the door.

"Now, I've been in the orange zone multiple times and I've been in yellow zone more times than I can count. Why's that?" Michael asks.

"Take a guess, Mike." I roll my eyes.

"Tell me, is there a green zone on the pregnancy tolerance scale?" Michael asks.

"Not for you. You seem to enjoy spending your life in the red zone." I say sarcastically, opening the pantry cupboard.

"Which I've been told is of course the most dangerous of the zones." Michael says.

"Leave." I say, trying to push him towards the door.

"Good luck." Michael smiles, crossing his arms.

"You could at least help me out here." I murmur.

"I'm quite happy exactly where I am." Michael says, kissing my hair.

"Fine. Then I'm going for a shower. Don't you dare follow me." I say.