Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You watched the face on national television, the cup of coffee you were holding just a few seconds ago, now painting the marble floor with a sad shade of brown. It was as if though an icy hand had gripped your heart, simultaneously freezing all the blood that runs in your veins.

You watched the picture of the unidentified figure in the black mask, knowing full well exactly who it was. It couldn't be. That picture perfect smile challenged the poor quality of the footage, flashing across the scene.

You watched as the reporter announced a manhunt for the suspect. All you could do was watch as the other half of your heart slowly faded away.

The cold droplets of water rushed down your body, colliding just hard enough to make you wince at the feeling. You didn't understand why your private Maryland high school resumed session smack in the middle of January- would an extra few days of winter break really hurt? As you slipped out of the shower and into your uniform, you anticipated the upcoming year in your head, dolling up in your upperclass family home. Your home stood tall, with one of those large porches and tiled roofs. It told the world exactly what they needed to know about your family's affluence, and it had done its job, for there was not a person in Baltimore who had not heard of the L/N family.

Being the only daughter of the L/Ns meant that you had to make something of yourself, and what better way to do that than following your parent's legacy and attending the University of Pennsylvania? Surely, you were destined to get in, there was simply no denying it. Y/N L/N had done everything right: study hard, initiate leadership activities, be a part of your community, push past her limits- UPenn was where you were meant to be. Buckling up into the backseat of your car, you told yourself that you'd better maintain that for the next few years.

"There's my girl!", yelled a familiar voice from the back of the classroom. "Y/N, why didn't you come to Tristian Cheng's party?", questioned Sara, your best friend. You tried to hide the familiar twinge of pain in your chest. "Oh, I was busy, I don't really like Tristian," you muttered, acting like you were actually invited. Sara cocked her head to the side. "Alright then," she smiled. Your friend's enthusiastic conversation faded away and you seemed to become a part of the background noise as your dropped your head and lay on your desk, exhausted already. The academic year had been merciless- debate tournament after debate tournament, with all those calculus tests following suite.

As a crows of excited girls chattered alongside Sara about all the latest gossi[,, you overheard a sentence that piqued your interest.

"Are you going to that Model UN conference in Gilman?"

"Um, yeah, duh! Imagine the amount of eye candy there!" one of your classmates gushed. "God, I really need to catch someone's eye. Have yall seen the guys at Gilman?"

Sara scrunched her nose. "Why guys from Gilman? Yeah, I get that the guys from our school don't have the same level of appeal, but I'm sure there's not much of a difference- guys can be jerks anywhere. Besides, Model UN isn't really my thing."

"Ever the STEM girl," you smiled, turning to your excited classmates. Kicking off the final months of the academic year with yet another win wouldn't hurt.

"So how much is the registration fee?"

Language had always been your thing- you'd spend hours studying for math and barely manage an A, but all you had to do was read through 'The Great Gatsby' once to attain the highest grades in your class. You checked your watch, seated at the crowded hall in Gilman School. Ah, Model UN: your favorite extracurricular activity. Why not pretened to be a world leader to nuke the country of another representative just because they looked at you the wrong way? Not that you'd do that, of course. You're a top-notch debater and hence the perfect delegate (hey, but you're humble about it). Your thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

"You should be careful about healthcare."

Your eyes shot over to the source of the voice.

"Excuse me?"

"I said that your healthcare system is a weak point in your stance." A boy that looked to be about your age leaned in towards you slightly. "As the delegate of the USA," he motioned towards the portfolio open on your laptop, "you should be careful about that. Keeping in mind that our committee is about social and economic issues."

Irked, you tried to put on your best nice-girl voice. "Yes, I'll do it as I see fit," you said, plastering a not-so-genuine smile on your face. "...and you might be...?"

The boy in front of you responded with a small smile, seemingly masking the slightest bit of cockiness. "Luigi. Luigi Mangione."

You blinked. "Er... your country allocation?"

"Oh, apologies. I'm the delegate of..."

You scoffed internally. Did this guy really think that you wanted his name? You were here for business, and you weren't leaving this conference without an award. Maybe Sara was right after all: guys can be jerks anywhere. You were here to win, and you had to stay focused if you wanted that certificate. 

Now, you didn't know whether it was your fried attention span or your hormones that had failed you, but your eyes drifted to the features of the boy, only now taking the sight in fully. A pair of dark eyes stared back at yours, decorated with thick eyebrows just above them. Soft, curved lips moved rhythmically with the slightly deep and strangely attractive voice now escaping them. Something about those naturally voluminous curls ignited something on the tip of your fingers, as if though they were touch starved, and those soft locks were they only things that could satisfy them.

"...is really quite underexaggerated. Will you support my proposal?" 

You snapped back, trying to come up with something that would make it seem like you were listening. He may have tried to mansplain your own stance to you, but you didn't want to make enemies before the debate even started. "Oh, I-"

Luckily, you were cut off by some other tryhard trying to lobby Luigi onto their side. His attention was shifted away from you. You let out a sigh of relief (or maybe disappointment) and focused your gaze back to your laptop, trying to type some formal speech after that awkward interaction, midly upset that your one potentially exciting male interaction was purely professional. Your fingers worked their magic with your mind as you typed out the last sentence:

"...is our foreign policy. We want to emphasise the fact that what may seem like the most miniscule of discussions and dialogue can spark the biggest of changes."

Can you believe the audacity of some people?

You sat there, fuming with silent rage. Who did this Maglione or whatever guy think he was? 

You thought you had this conference at the back of your hand. Boy, were you wrong! Not only did Macaroni or whatever have the entire room of other delegates fawning after him, he'd even completely gone against all of your well-researched policies and had left you with nothing! You hopped around the room, trying to convince as many people as you could to join your side. It was a heated battle as the two of you tried to assert dominance over one another, so much so that you didn't realise when the day had ended and you'd have to reutn home to prepare for tomorrow. You were sweaty in that suite, and your papers were a mess. You could barely keep up with that ridiculously eloquent rival you had made.

Who even has any business speaking that well? Every time Macaroni gave a speech or asked a question, he'd do it in the most calm manner. Calm, but incredibly snarky. His reserved yet petty demeanour had earned himself a name. You weren't fooled, though. You picked up your bag and headed outside Gilman's grounds. Surely there was some weakpoint in his policies that you could use to completely annihilate him tomorrow. You walked to your car with your vindictive thoughts, that were soon interrupted by a tap on your  shoulder. You looked behind, irritated. You just wanted to go home.

It was the Mangione kid.

"You're an amazing debater. I think we should become allies for the next two days."

Straight to the point, huh?

You inspected the figure in front of you. He had a tall, well-built figure with toned arms that you could observe even with the shirt he was wearing. You met his eyes and spoke.

"Private insurance companies should be the least of our concerns. Don't you see how issues like-"

"I think that's where you're quite wrong. This whole time today, you were too focused on other countries. You can't help others without improving yourself first.

Oh, you were really annoyed now. You glared back at this guy who thought he could teach you something you'd been doing for years. He met your eyes with a blank stare. 

"I think I can handle my policies myself, thanks."

"It certainly didn't look like that today when I questioned you about the insurance claim denial rates being so high in the US, and you stuttered in front of everyone."

Your face turned pink. "Everyone stutters!"

"Everyone?", he smirked.

You couldn't do this right now. You turned your back to him and walked towards your car that was ready to pick you up. "Bye Macaroni."

"It's Mangione!", a voice called after you as you retired back to your home.

Chapter Text

"We'll be pausing for lunch," a voice yelled in the background.

Now, normally, you'd be ecstatic about lunch. What's not to love about food? But how can your body experience even an ounce of happiness, when Macaroni is constantly trying to one-up you? Seriously, it was getting on your nerves! You really didn't think that this guy had it in him- that cocky smirk did a number on you every time you'd get a glance of him. You couldn't argue witht he fact that he was good. Even with that smart-ass tone, every argument, every fact and every snarky remark he delivered was to the point, and just seemed to hit the benchmark for perfection. 

You didn't like it one bit. 

What if you didn't win? What if that Luigi guy's ideas completely outshined your resolution? Not when your parents were waiting back home, expecting that gold medal. Not when you were Y/N L/N. You don't settle for second place. If it's lunch you have to skip to work on that plan to assassinate Luigi's delegation, then so be it. 

You were just done Googling the exact model of the weapon you were going to use for your master plan, ready to type into your document with some oddly ominous intent. This was top secret, and you were going to do this yourself. No risking any other person taking away even a little bit of your leadership and credibility. This could be the thing that makes you wi-

"Aren't you eating lunch?"

Your body jerked at the sound of the voice. Hurriedly, you closed your laptop, turning around, only to lock eyes with...

Luigi Mangione.

"The Venetian-style scallops are really good," he continued. "I wouldn't miss it if I were you."

"No thanks," you responded. "I've got some work to do."

"Suit yourself."

You sat there, dumbfounded as Luigi exited the room.

All the fanfiction and enemies-to-lovers books you secretly read have guys that are either mysterious and reserved, or bold and bratty. You couldn't figure out which one Luigi was. Not that you needed to, of course. You could find someone a lot better for yourself when the time came. For now, the focus was on UPenn. 

You didn't realise time tick by while you typed your concerningly elaborate assassination plans, so much so that you didn't notice the plate of food make a clinking sound next to you as it was placed on the table.

"Not eating will only decrease your performance."

You turned. You no longer wanted to hide the fact that you were annoyed.

"Go away. You're trying to look at my paperwork. I can do just fine without lunch, thank you very much."

"Hm, yeah," the boy sighed as he turned around, his back facing you.

"Guess I was giving you the benefit of the doubt when I thought that some food might save your miserable performance."

That's it.

"Why don't you mop the floor with that nest on your head when you cry about not winning tomorrow?" you shot back. Hey! That wasn't too bad of a comeback.

Luigi turned his head around, just enough for you to see his face while he was walking away. "Well, you seem to like the nest on my head very much, since you can't seem to keep your eyes off of me," he chuckled.

You tried to think of a clever comeback, but Mangione slipped away with the last word. That boy was insufferable, and you would like nothing more than to watch him lose.

You suddenly remembered the plate of food next to you. Why would he do that? Didn't he have better chances of winning if you were starving yourself over here? You tried to control your appetite, but it had been a couple of hours since breakfast...and you know what? Those Venetian-style scallops really did smell good.

This was it.

The moment of truth.

You held your breath as tight as you held Sarah's hand- the day of the award ceremony was finally here. You never lost your cool like this, but maybe now that you had some tough competition with a certain someone, things were a little different.

Verbal acknowledgements.

Done.

Honorary mentions.

Done.

"...and now to announce the outstanding delegate, who was very close to winning first place!" 

You scoffed internally. You weren't even anticipating your name, of course you won-

"Y/N L/N!"

Well, you'll be damned. Your heart fell to your stomach. Had they just announced first place? This had to be a joke. The silver medal glistening on the stage in your Chair's hand, however, told you otherwise. You didn't want to claim it. This was an insult. This was all happening too quickly-

"Congratulations, Y/N. You were a formidable opponent."

That familiar deep voice was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. With your breath hitched, you walked to the stage to claim your award. The applause felt more like condemnation. You stood there like a twig, watching that gold medal which you had worked so hard for now hanging casually around Luigi's neck, who was surrounded by his pack of friends, cheering him on, probably feeding onto his colossal ego. Despite of your friends' protests, you rushed out of Gilman's school grounds, heading straight for the parked car with your driver waiting on you. You thought you heard a male voice calling after you, but you didn't care. 

You held your tears all the way back home, tearing through your bedroom door. It didn't matter if it was just one competition. You let yourself get distracted, and now you had to pay the consequences. You never wanted to lose to any man! Wallowing in self-pity, you could only think about how you lost to Luigi.

How could you let this happen?

 Well, this wasn't the first time you'd lost, right? 

There was that time in the second grade when you lost the Spelling Bee to Henry Chang. Or that time you got third place in that Spanish elocution contest in the third grade. 

Whatever. They're probably all just misogynists.

Huddled up in your cozy blanket in your room, you focus on streaming some shows on Netflix for now. You absent-mindedly open your phone as your show starts, noticing a few texts from Sarah. 

"helloo y/n"

"i heard from the others that you left your conference early today, everything alr? <3"

You groaned. Great, now you were the dramatic, sore loser. This was the last thing you wanted right now. Just as you were about to put down your phone, a notification popped up on your phone.- a message forwarded to you by your teacher.

From:  Gilman School

Subject: Invitation to the Gilman Robotics Fair

We'd like to cordially invite you to...

You didn't bother to read the rest of the message. You weren't exactly a robotics person.

You stretched your arm, feeling a sharp pain somewhere inside your muscles right as you typed up a reply for your teacher to decline the offer. Your parents were out for a business trip, so there was no pressure to outdo yourself.

As you scrolled up to look at the details for the event out of curiosity, your eyes stopped at a picture. Behind a small mechanical rover, among a crowd of boys, was a face that you recognised instantly. 

Luigi Mangione. Seriously, was there something this guy didn't do?

One thing was for sure, now, though. You were going back to Gilman, and you were going to show Luigi Mangione who the real boss was around here. 

"So you want me to join a science fair with you?"

"Yes! We can definitely do something super impressive-"

"Hold on, Y/N. Why are you suddenly interested in robotics?"

"C'monnn Sara! This will give us so much of exposure!", you urged your friend.

"Fine, but I'm still suspicious. Find some eye-candy at Gilman?" Sara winked.

"Pleaseee?"

Your best friend sighed. "Alright. We'll start working tomorrow."

You squealed and gave her a hug, walking to first period just as your phone dinged.

Unknown number

Didn't think you were a robotics type of girl. Still trying to claim your victory?

You didn't have to guess who it was.

Y/N L/N

quit stalking me, macaroni

Your response was as lifeless as Luigi's fish that got sucked into the filter in 2010.

Unknown number

Chill, I got your contact info from your teacher. The venue details have been mailed to your email account.

Y/N L/N

still counts as stalking.

Unknown number

Wasn't it also stalking when you kept gawking at me for three days at that conference?

Y/N L/N

youre really not worth that much attention, as opposed to what your giant ego may tell you

Unknown number

The fact that you're coming for the Robotics Fair would say otherwise. Are you trying to win, or win me over?

That last one made your blood rush up all the way to your cheeks. You're trying to win. Not trying to win him over. Obviously. Right? 

Chapter Text

Whrr. Whrrrrr.

You were so done with this. Why wouldn't your damn voice-controlled robot follow the command to raise its arm? 

"Arm raise. A-r-m r-a-i-s-e. Raise your arm!"

You didn't understand. Sara's immaculate coding had ensured that the robot functioned well in every other aspect. It was just thing one command that seemed to have no effect.

"The fair is literally tomorrow."

"You need to relax, Y/N!" Sara laughed. "Let's take a break."

Grudgingly, you followed Sara to the closest coffee shop. 

"Did something happen at that coffee shop? You seem grumpier than usual." she inquired. You sighed. "No...it's just that I lost the best delegate award to some guy."

"Y/N, you're better than that! You can't let just one loss define your abilities! You and I both know that you're probably one of the smartest people in the school district!"

You managed to crack a smile for Sara's sake. 

Taking a break was a mistake, because you spent the rest of the day gossiping and procrastinating with Sara. Come on, it was alright- the rest of your group hadn't even shown up that day!

Once you pulled up to Gilman in your car the next day, however, you immediately regretted that mindset. 

"Woah! Look at all of these machines!" 

Sara was in awe. She immediately dragged you (along with your group's robot) to check some stalls out, completely ignoring the fact that your own robot wasn't even functioning well. After some guy started flirting with your friend while she was nerding out, however, you took the opportunity to go set up your own stall. It was only fair, since you had somehow managed to slack off as much as you could. Machines bored you.

 As you started unloading your presentation onto the table you were assigned, you felt a presence behind you.

"Hey there, Y/N." said a voice you recognise all too well.

Of course this was happening. 

You pretended not to have heard that slightly gruffy noise from behind you, trying to seem busy with your malfunctioning robot. You weren't a STEM girly, but you were still smart- as your worked around your robot's motherboard, a zap of electricity from a faulty wire made contact with your skin, making you wince.

Your back was still turned to Luigi. You heard footsteps come closer and you shifted uncomfortably, afraid of facing the person who had beat you in one of the many things you were passionate about earlier that weekend.

"The fair starts in 15 minutes." Macaroni remarked.

"Astute observation, what color is the sky?" you retaliated.

"The problem is not just with the faulty wire. There seems to be an issue with the ports in your motherboard..."

Luigi rambled off, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes. This time, however, as if your heart was going behind your mind's back, your eyes rolled in Luigi's direction, using the display of annoyance as an excuse to trace the Greek-god-like facial structure of the boy. You wondered how that face would look snuggled beside you-

"...do you understand?"

You snapped back to reality, blinking twice before locking eyes with the brunette boy. Of course he was trying to boss you around.

Feigning confidence, you sat up. "Thank you for your concern, but we've got it handled."

"Really? Just like how you were so confident about winning the best award in that Model UN conference?" he smirked.

You felt the heat rising up to your cheeks and you racked your brain for a comeback. "I've got it handled. Guys like you would do anything to seem superior to women, wouldn't you?'

Ah, yes. The misogyny card. You kind of felt bad, but you were experiencing a state of what you call snarky-comeback-drought.   

Luigi's divinely sculpted eyebrows raised in what seemed like genuine surprise and maybe even a little hurt. "That's not what I was-"

"Now if you will excuse me, I have a robot to fix", you said and turned away, motioning for Sara to come over, who was busy admiring a mini hydro-powered robot just a few stalls away. 

Luigi walked stepped away, eyes lost in thought, much to your relief. You couldn't explain the twinge of disappointment you felt in your chest. 

In the next ten minutes, Sara fixed up the error on the robot you had worked on earlier. Much to your annoyance, Sara had to identidy and fix every flaw Luigi had already pointed out in half the time she had, but she didn't need to know that. You'd occasionally catch glimpses of Macaroni looking towards you from the next stall, where he was working. You scolded yourself for your thoughts. Luigi had girls fawning over him, not to mention, he was pretty out of your league. Not that it mattered to you. Your one true love was the Ivy League.  

Sara noticed your state of unrest, her eyes flicking between Mangione and you. 

"What's up with that guy?", Sara asks with an undertone of mischief in her voice. 

"Nobody, he's just that guy who beat me to that award.", you sighed. 

Just as you finished the last detail with your robot, the competition's assessors headed over to your stall. Placing your feelings aside, you locked in to give yet another outstanding academic performance.

The day was exhausting. You took shifts in your stall with other members in your group, feeling drowsy and tired, even until the announcement for the winners. You jolted awake after Sara gave you a gentle nudge when the first-runner up was being announced. It wasn't your stall. There was a sliver of hope that you would win.

The announcer cleared their throat. "This year, we witnessed some of the most innovative robots this fair has seen in a long time. As you all know, the winners of this fair will advance to the state-level competiton, where private corporations will select one robot to fund."

The crowd cheered.

"Although a competitive process, our judges usually find the one project that stands out the most."

You took a deep breath.

"This time, however, two robots were so good, that we have decided that it is best for the two groups to merge their creations, taking into account the similar mechanics. Congratulations to the following teams: 'Gilman A' and 'Y/N's Minions'!"

You heard the audience giggle at your silly team name and you rose up to get your award, relief flooding in your chest. Relief, but not satisfaction, you realised, watching Luigi get up to go on the stage with his team, 'Gilman A'. Real creative team name.

You looked at Luigi from across the stage as you approached the trophy, who was already looking at your direction.

You held up the glistening cup from the left. This was a tie between Luigi and you.

Macaroni mirrored your action from the right side.

And everyone knows a tie needs a tie-breaker. 

Chapter Text

The bitter feeling of coffee hit your system while you hunched over your laptop, furiously typing away into the wee hours of night. AP English and Language Composition in sophomore year was breaking your back. You had been too busy reading fanfics on the internet to care about the 2,000-word essay due tomorrow. So, there you were, desperately resisting the urge to switch to another tab and doomscroll instead of finishing your essay at 12:00 am on a Tuesday night. Sleep tugged at your eyes and your body threatened to turn itself off, but it didn't matter- you had already bombed two tests in Mrs. Kayley's English class, and at this rate, your 4.0 would run away from you like all of your motivation did. 

Occasionally, your eyes would flick to your phone. What, or rather, who, were you anticipating? Maybe it was a certain curly haired-

You shook your head. Oh, the things caffeine and burn out can do to a girl. How ridiculous of you to think of Macaroni right now, when you should be fully invested in your academic pursuits. You sighed softly to yourself before turning your attention back to your composition.

The godawful sound of your alarm woke you from your slumber. You groggily tried to sit up on your bed, only to feel a familiar pain in your joints. You took in a sharp breath- did you sleep in an uncomfortable position? The sharp pain disappeared as quickly as it came. You grabbed your phone before going to the bathroom, going through your notifications.

macaroni sent you a message.

There it was again. That familiar feeling of your heart doing a little leap inside your chest. You hastily clicked on it as you prepared your shower.

macaroni

Once you stop fuming over some silly award, can you give me a date and time to meet for the project? 

Y/N L/N 

maybe if you weren't so full of yourself, you'd know that I'm not 'fuming' over any award, and that sara already emailed you all the details for a meeting.

Hah! You were always one step ahead. 

Your phone buzzed with a notification again.

macaroni

Ah, it went to my spam folder. Maybe Google mistook that email for your robot? :P

That's enough. You insult Y/N L/N, that's one thing. You insult something that your best friend had worked really hard on? That's a whole another level of low.

Y/N L/N

funny how we both tied for first place then. guess your weird invention belongs in the junkyard with us.

With that, you put your phone on silent and stepped into the shower.

You couldn't focus on your classes. Not with the thought of Mangione gnawing at your head, combined with those weird shots of pain in your joints. You dragged your feet from class to class, trying to ignore the feeling in your joints. It felt like ages before you made your way to lunch. You opened your phone to another text.

macaroni

Do you really get offended so easily?

You left him on read. Men can be so annoying. Working with Luigi was going to be hellish if you kept up with your rivalry.

Your thoughts ran wild as you played with your food. This was incomprehensible.

Luigi Mangione was hated by you with a fiery passion. You disliked his cheeky grin. You couldn't stand his laugh that reverberated in whichever room he stood. You hated the way his curls would set back perfectly on his after getting disheveled while he worked. 

Then why couldn't he get out of your mind?

...

Probably because he's just that annoyinng.

Your intricate analysis on Luigi Mangione and his unmoving presence in your thoughts was interrupted by a group of giggling girls, looking at their phones. Now, you usually mind your own business, but you don't want to miss out on the latest gossip. After all, who can resist taking a tiny peak at other peoples' screens?

You tilt your body towards the girls, trying to be slick and glancing at their screen, only to see...a picture of Macaroni.

"Omg, he's so cute!", gushed one of the girls. 

No he wasn't! What do girls even see in him? You were so invested that you didn't realise that one of the girls had caught you gawking at their phone.

"Oooh, Y/N! Are you finally letting loose and checking guys out?", one of them smirked.

"Most certainly not, I-"

"Guys, we should back off. Didn't you hear? Y/N and Luigi were having a whole enemies-to-lovers thing in that Model UN conference at Gilman the other day!"

"That's not what it was! I-"

You were cut off once more. "Damn, L/N! You've got game."

You turned away from the conversation, the blood rushing to your cheeks. 

Not Luigi Mangione. Anyone but Luigi Mangione. 

You two were the polar opposites...at first glance. He was outgoing and snarky, unafraid to criticise anything he deemed wrong. You were aloof, but in a manner that asserted your dominance to the room. Unlike Luigi, you worked behind the scenes to right the wrongs of others without making a scene. You were already too focused on getting into UPenn, so you could forget about anything happening with Mangione. Not that you needed anything with Mangione in the first place. 

Luigi Mangione and Y/N L/N did not even belong in the same sentence. That was just truism.

You stared at the messages Luigi had sent you, purposely not reading them. You couldn't afford to get distracted. 

Luigi's nose grazed your neck as he left a trail of kisses down your nape. You were oddly ticklish there and he knew the exact spots that would send shivers down your spine. His hands gripped you firmly in place, pinning you to the wall. Like this, you felt safe, secure. For a moment, just for a moment, you could forget about the mountains of tests and extracurriculars waiting for you. He stopped for a moment to look at you. The proximity was overwhelming as his face scanned yours, close enough to see every flaw on your face. You didn't care, though. You could be vulnerable with him. He smiled- and not his usual cocky grin. A warm, loving smile that made you feel like you deserved him. He ran his thumb down your lips and stopped at your chin. People could've heard your heartbeat from a mile away.

"You're beautiful, Y/N."

You melted into his arms, hoping that this moment would last forever.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"You need to wake up and study for that physics test."

"What?"