Hey guys! So, I am alive, and still fanfic-hungry as I've ever been, I've just been so busy I literally have no time to even read FanFiction, let alone write it. I recently got into a LOT of new fandoms- aka Exhibit A- Stranger Things, Riverdale (Falice yasss), It (Richie and Eddie 4ever), The Good Place and most recently, Brooklyn-99 which is *mwah* I have no words. Except one. (peraltiago). Also, I will be accepting oneshot requests for any of those fan fictions or your own if you have a different fandom x Anyway, this fic is basically just AU of Stranger Things S3 where Mike and Eleven dislike each other (or do they? Oohhhhh) so. Enjoy I guess :)

Eleven's POV:

It was 3 o clock on a Friday afternoon and Eleven was tired. She was tired, and she was grumpy and she just wanted to get home and lie down on her bed.

She had considered using her powers to turn the clock forward again so they could be let out of school early, and then remembered the wrath of Hopper, her adoptive dad the last time she did that.

Maths was taken by the single most boring teacher in the school, Mrs Donson, and it was all anyone could do to keep their eyes open, let alone actually pay attention, especially on Friday.

What was bad about that particular lesson you ask? Well, for starters, she had just received a Monday detention for forgotten homework, and secondly, that annoying Mike Wheeler, the only person in her generally tight-knit friendship group to fray her nerves and get her all hot and bothered kept doing every little thing just to get on her nerves.

It started simple enough. Tapping- on the desk no less. What was particularly irking about that first irritation was the fact that he knew how much that annoyed her, and he kept on doing it. It wasn't ignorance either- he had this smug little smirk on his face that she either wanted punch off or... anyway, he was irritating her.

With a flick of her eyes, the pencil flew from his hands and landed on the floor, just out of his reach. She wanted a reaction, a rise to prove she was now winning whatever this little game was, but all she got in return was another arrogant little smirk which she was *fairly* sure she growled at.

He seemed to settle down a bit and Eleven calmed a little and began staring out the window. After a while, though, the tapping resumed. Gritting her teeth, she turned her head to glare at him with a gaze that could terrify a demogorgon. He simply shook back his dark, curly locks (which did not look soft enough to run your hands through, thank you very much) chuckled and continued with his work (his German homework, she noticed).

She snorted disapprovingly and he imitated her exaggeratedly, causing her to blush furiously and maintain a glare at him, which he stared back at lazily, like a cat. "Stop being so goddamn irritating, Wheeler," she muttered to him. He smiled smugly and drawled, "Getting hot and flustered there, Hopper? You know, as much as you call me irritating, you seem to enjoy our exchanges- unless red is your natural skin tone..."

He reached out to stroke her soft cheek and she snapped out of her stupor. She shoved his hand away and hissed, "In your dreams, Wheeler!"

She turned away, expecting to be left alone after that, but instead came a sentence that boiled her blood to her very core: "Oh no, Hopper, there's not this much talking in my dreams, if you know what I mean."

She turned on him, her pencil case hovering a few centimetres above her desk and her eyes murderous, ready to unleash hell upon him and banish him to the Upside-Down for all of eternity when-

Dong!

The bell went for their next class and Mike all but leapt from his seat, winked at her and gave her the finger gun all with a wide smirk, then dashed from the classroom leaving a decidedly dangerous El fuming in the near-empty classroom.

Mike's POV:

He knew the second he walked into Maths that afternoon that he was completely and utterly screwed. The seating plan had been assigned and he was stuck next to Eleven freaking Hopper. ELEVEN. FREAKING. HOPPER. She was such an uptight, annoying, smart-ass, cute, prett- horrible person!

He sighed in annoyance and saw her roll her eyes, probably mocking him. He hated being mocked. Suddenly a smirk spread over his face and he knew the perfect way to rile her up.

Tap. Tap. Tap. His pencil flew up and down on the desk, him sneaking glances at her, knowing how irritating she found pen tapping from the party's Saturday night study sessions (which he doesn't stare at her in, thank you very much).

Sure enough, her head snaps up and she glares at him, before using her powers to flick his pencil off the desk and out of his reach. Her retaliation methods were so lame, he scoffed, smirking to himself and enjoying the sight of her nostrils flaring with anger, the way they did only with him, before getting up to retrieve his pencil.

Lost in thought over the next D&D campaign he was meant to planning (on risk of Will actually slaughtering him and feeding him to the demodogs) he almost forgot about his plan to annoy El until she did an adorable- um, extremely annoying little sneeze which brought him back to the present.

Glancing over at her, he very cautiously grabbed his pencil and slowly started tapping again. She noticed immediately this time around and attempted a glare at him that really just made her lower lip stick out and a lone curl fall over her face. He chuckled at the picture before remembering that he was the one this 'angry face' was directed at, and quickly, with a twist of his stomach, looked down at his German homework due next period (to be fair, Maths is practically a different language anyway).

That was until, he heard the most indignant harrumph from her direction and he turned to look at her incredulously. Emitting a little 'harrumph' of his own, he looked at her with laughter in his eyes because of her antics and she merely said, (flushing, by the way) 'Stop being so goddamn irritating, Wheeler.'

He merely smirked smugly; he knew he was the only one who could provoke into getting all red and flustered. Pushing it a little, he (a tad nervously he might add) "Getting hot and flustered there, Hopper? You know, as much as you call me irritating, you seem to enjoy our exchanges- unless red is your natural skin tone..."

At her dour expression, he almost wished he hadn't ruined the small upturn of her lip that he was pretty sure even she didn't notice. Almost instinctively, his hand went to her cheek to try and smooth her frown before realising what he had done. Panicking, he fumbled to play along with what he just (unknowingly) instigated before she shoved his hand off, her cheeks warm and rosy under his touch.

No, no, no! What am I thinking?! This is Eleven, he thought firmly. I hate her. Ok, now, play it cool, he thought, her indignant words vaguely making their way to his ears before a voice that didn't even sound like his own replied smoothly (and suicidally) "Oh no, Hopper, there's not this much talking in my dreams, if you know what I mean."

He knew after the third word he had gone too far, but couldn't seem to stop the dreaded words escaping his lips. For the first time in the conversation, his eyes widened a little in fear at her clenched fists and hovering pencil case that looked like it had a lot of hard pens in it (So what if he's scared, she's drinking moving stuff with her mind and it looks like he's her next target!).

He almost collapses with relief when the bell rings at the most convenient time ever, enabling his quick escape and guaranteed protection as his next class, History, is with Max and he knows El would rather die than risk Max's life by unleashing something horrible into their classroom.

Sending her some quick finger guns, he winks and heads out the door, the last glimpse of her sparkling, sparking hazel eyes burned into his retinas.

If you wanna see more where that came from, drop a review or a request for oneshots or a follow perhaps x you guys are my motivation! (no pressure or anything)

Well see ya I guess ;)