#mallory swanson

[meazalykov]

terror arrives

barcelona femeni x female!pugh!oc

margaret (margo) pugh breaks through world class stars to score goals. so what happens when she transfers to barcelona after knocking them out of the champions league in the previous season?

the woman’s name had always been a heavy topic for opponents.

mallory pugh was the darling of american soccer, the golden girl. the one who followed the well-paved path, the one who did things the right way. 

a good youth career, senior national team. nwsl. the poster child for what a career was supposed to look like.

the younger sister… margo? margo had never done things the right way.

she is the younger sister, the shadowed talent. the one who took the road less-traveled. she is the one who was always chasing after something, even if she did not yet know what. the one who ignored the noise, the expectations, the comparisons to her older traditional sister, and ran her own race. 

literally, because margo pugh was not just fast on the pitch, she was terrifying.

tonight, the best team in the world learned just how terrifying she could be.

barcelona had confidence, as they always did. they had won the first leg 1-0, and even without alexia in full form, they were still the most dominant force in club football. 

lyon, the sleeping giant, had stumbled this season. margo? she had missed the first leg due to a minor injury. without her, lyon lacked their usual bite.

now she was back, and she was hungry.

from the first whistle, margo was a nightmare. she did not just move…she exploded. the ball stuck to her feet as if tethered by an unseen force, her low center of gravity allowing her to slip through tackles with a grace that should not have been possible at such speed. 

at just twenty-one, she was already different and already unpredictable, already rewriting the narrative that had been crafted for her due to having a sibling already in the ranks.

barcelona’s midfield, patri, keira, and aitana, were accustomed to dictating games. 

against margo, they could only chase.

at minute 18, margo picks up the ball just past midfield. she turns sharply, a half-second quicker than walsh, and she is gone. aitana reaches out, tries to pull her back…too late.

one touch. two. three. the ball moves like it is an extension of her. she slices through the space between irene and ona like a hot knife through butter. she takes a touch with her right, steadies herself, and buries it past coll before anyone can react.

1-0.

barcelona is stunned. the catalan stadium, roaring just minutes ago, falls into an uneasy silence while the away crowd goes wild. 

the aggregate is tied.

in minute 36, lyon’s press forces a mistake. renard wins the ball, flicks it to diani, who sees margo already running. she knows better than to hesitate. she sends the pass forward, and like clockwork, margo is there. 

she takes the ball in stride, past ona, past paredes…again. one-on-one with coll. this time, she fakes right. cata bites. margo drags it left, rolling the ball into the net with the ease of someone who has been doing this her entire life.

brace. 

before halftime. 2-0.

barcelona looks at each other, shaken. they have never feared a player like this before. they have never feared a twenty-one-year-old with only two years of european experience after leaving the states, but margo?

they fear her.

in minute 74, barcelona fights back and it seems like the best team in the world will have a comeback. they know one goal will send this into extra time. they push, they press, but lyon cannot break. we,, at least until fridolina gets a penalty, which she scores.

2-1.

in minute 82, the final dagger. lyon counters. margo, once again, is at the heart of it. she receives the ball at the halfway line, faced with two defenders. 

she stops. one touch. a step-over. she is gone again, but this time she does not go for a goal.

she lifts her head. she sees van de donk, waiting at the top of the box. a perfectly weighted pass splits the defense, and van de donk does not miss.

3-1.

barcelona is done.

when the final whistle blows, margo does not celebrate right away. she stands still for a moment, watching as the best team in the world lowers their heads, as their fans sit in stunned silence. 

then, she turns, running toward her teammates, arms outstretched.

the headlines will follow. of course the spanish, french, and american media will explode. for now, in this moment, margo pugh just smiles.

she is no longer the shadow, because she is the storm.

the thing is that margo had always known lyon was temporary. when she signed her two-season contract at eighteen, fresh out of high school, people questioned her decision. 

skipping college, heading straight to europe as an american teenager, it was bold and reckless some had said. however, margo had never been the type to follow expectations. she carved her own path away from her older sister who will never play in europe. 

now, at twenty-one, that path was leading her somewhere inevitable.  

when she lifted the champions league trophy with lyon, gold confetti falling around her, sweat still clinging to her skin from the 2-1 victory over chelsea, she knew this would be her last moment in a lyon jersey. 

she had done what she came to do. she had proven herself. 

she had stood on the biggest stage in club football and shown the world what she was capable of at such a young age.  

first, she had business in the states.  

the national break meant time with mallory, time with the uswnt, time to settle back into american soil before returning to europe. she didn’t talk much about what was next since her contract expired, but everyone around her already knew.  

margo had loved barcelona for as long as she could remember. long before she became the player she was today, before she was tearing through midfielders and breaking defensive lines like they were paper, she was a kid watching el clásico matches with wide eyes, heart racing every time barcelona scored. 

she had been obsessed with their style of play, the identity, their magic.  

there were pictures to prove it. old ones, dug up by the media as soon as transfer rumors swirled. 

margo, no older than five, standing next to mallory in an oversized 06/07 barcelona kit, sleeves drowning her small arms, her sister wrapping an arm around her shoulders. the picture was taken in 2010.

the jersey was so big on margo and it looked like a dress, but margo had worn it with pride.  

so when the news finally broke, almost no one was surprised.  

well, except for the barcelona players themselves.  

they had seen firsthand what margo could do, and to say they were impressed would be an understatement.  

there was a reason lyon had beaten barcelona in the champions league semifinals. a reason the best team in the world had been sent home before the final. that reason? margo pugh. 

she had run circles around them. she had been relentless. she had made even the most experienced players look slow, out of sync.  

now, that same terror was about to be on their side.  

alexia had spoken about it first. she had watched margo closely, studied the way she moved, the way she read the game. she admired it. she recognized that rare spark, the kind only the greats had. she’s special, she had told a few of her teammates, and there was no disagreement.  

some, like patri and pina, had felt something else…something dangerously close to jealousy. barcelona had been the team for so long. the standard. the team with the best midfield in the world. 

now? now a twenty-one-year-old was arriving, and she wasn’t just talented, she was a force that nobody stopped last season. not a single soul.

when margo finally landed in barcelona, the entire club felt it.  

the signing was no ordinary transfer. 

this was a statement. a warning. a shift in power.  

this time, the storm wasn’t coming for barcelona.  

it was here with them.

masterlist

authors note: do you guys want me to expand on this universe/oc?I have seen many like this and it inspired me to write this. if so, please dm any ideas <3

[naehertho]

lyss holding mal while she cries on the field has my chicago heart weeping 🥹

[bailey41]

🎶 Cheetah Girls, "Strut” ⚽️ USWNT with other members of Team USA on the bus to Stade de France, August 11, 2024. 🎥 posted by Margaret Hedeman, US Rowing, Women's Eight. 🚣‍♀️

[tracksuitlesbian]

[scooby1723]

This video always does it for me. The 19ers meant so much to me 🥹

[glimmerofawesome]

[womanwithahotdogstand]

Does it ever drive you crazy

Just how fast the night changes

[rodmansanchez]

EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU TRINITY

[preathuswnt]

wedding squad goals 🤩

[emotionalsupportsoccerball]

Gold medalists getting down

[meazalykov]

independent

trinity rodman x rodman!reader

part two - part one here

summary: you've gained, and you've lost

warnings: angst, and forgiveness

months passed by in silence between you and trinity. 

national breaks came and went on the uswnt, but the tension between you two lingered like a shadow, a constant reminder of the distance—both physical and emotional—that had grown between you. 

the once unbreakable bond felt broken, each encounter on the pitch with the uswnt tingled with an awkwardness that neither of you had the courage to confront.

you avoided eye contact with the older twin during training, focusing on the drills and the game plans, while trinity did the same with you. it was easier that way, less painful. but the avoidance left a hollow feeling in your chest, a nagging regret that you couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried to bury it. 

each time you caught a glimpse of trinity across the field,or when you had to make a pass to her up the field– you felt the ache of what used to be—a closeness that now felt like a distant memory. 

the silences between you were noticed by the team, and the unspoken words weighed heavily on your heart. however, the team decided to not get themselves mixed up in family business. 

now, the olympic games were supposed to be the pinnacle of your career, and in many ways, they were. 

you played your heart out, having the most assists in history. each goal, except for korbin’s goal against australia, had you as the assist-ant. contributing to the team’s journey to the final with everything you had. 

even as you stood on the pitch, in the starting lineup with your sister against brazil– knowing you were just a game away from olympic gold, the thought of trinity weighed heavily on your mind. 

this was what you’d worked so hard for, yet the victory felt incomplete without sharing it with her. 

would she want to share it with me? you’d thought. 

the pressure was immense, and while your teammates cheered and encouraged you to be the playmaker, the absence of trinity’s support gnawed at you.

when the final whistle blew, signaling your victory and the uswnt’s fifth gold medal, you were swarmed by your teammates. 

cheers, tears, and hugs from mallory, naomi, and sam surrounded you, but there was still an emptiness inside. 

you glanced around, searching for trinity in the sea of jubilant faces, and when your eyes finally met, time seemed to freeze. 

the celebrations around you blurred into the background, and all you could see was the distance in trinity’s eyes, a distance that had grown over the months of silence.

trinity was standing a few feet away, holding onto alyssa with a bright smile on her face. however, her eyes showed a hint of sadness. 

she looked back at alyssa, and you looked back at sam coffey who screamed in joy. 

the next time you look at her is after the gold medal ceremony. you took your pictures, individually and with some of your teammates. 

now, many photographers begged to get you and trinity in a picture. unaware of the broken bond between the both of you. 

she looks over at you with her gold medal, her expression unreadable. you both hesitated, as if an invisible wall still stood between you. 

but with the world watching, there was no more running away. the weight of the moment pressed down on you, and you knew that this was it—the moment where everything would either begin to heal or break completely.

slowly, you approached each other, the roar of the crowd fading into the background. you stood there, gold medals around your necks, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air. your heart pounded in your chest, and you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to break the silence that had held you captive for so long.

she wrapped her arm around your waist and you did the same to her, a bright smile on your face as if everything was okay. 

once the cameras went away, you broke. 

“i’m sorry, trin,” you blurted out, the words rushing out of you before you could stop them. 

“i’ve missed you so much, and i hate that we haven’t talked. i don’t like you being mad at me.”

trinity’s eyes softened, and for a moment, you saw the same sister you’d grown up with, the one who had always been by your side. 

“i missed you too, y/n,” she admitted, her voice barely audible over the loud noises around you. 

“i was so angry, but more than that, i was hurt. i didn’t know how to deal with you being gone.”

“i know,” you whispered, taking a shaky breath.

“it’s been so hard being away from you, and i hate that it happened like this. but i love playing at barcelona, trin. it’s everything i dreamed of. jana and esmee have became some of my bestest friends on the team– i have a girlfriend too finally! salma is her name, i was hoping you’d get to meet her today but spain didn’t make it unfortunately.”

to your surprise, trinity smiled, a genuine smile that reached her eyes. 

“i’m really happy for you, y/n. i’ve been following your games, even if i didn’t say anything. i saw you win the champions league...  and what the fuckkk that goal from you in the beginning of the second half was incredible. i should’ve congratulated you earlier, i’m so sorry.”

you blinked back tears, a mix of relief and guilt washing over you. “thank you, trin. i’ve wanted to talk to you for so long, to tell you everything that’s happened, but i didn’t know how. talking through imessage or facetime wouldn’t do us any justice.”

trinity nodded, her smile fading slightly as she looked at you with a seriousness that made your heart clench. 

“i guess we both needed time to figure things out. but i don’t want to lose you, y/n. you’re the closest person in my life, and i’m proud of everything you’ve achieved. olympic gold, champions league... you’re the next big thing, you know that?”

you laughed through the tears, shaking your head. “says you! you’re the reason why we made it here– but i don’t feel like the girl who’s won these competitions. i just feel like your little sister who misses her twin.”

trinity pulled you into a tight hug, holding you close as if she’d never let go. 

“you’re always going to be my sister, no matter what you achieve or even if you’re across the pond. i’m proud of you, y/n. and i’m sorry for how things went down between us. i should’ve been happy that you’re playing at your dream club.”

“i’m sorry too,” you whispered into her shoulder, feeling the weight of the past few months finally lifting. “but we’re here now, and we have gold!”

as you stood there, wrapped in your sister’s embrace, the world seemed to right itself again. the distance between you was closed.

after a few moments, trinity pulled back slightly, looking at you with a newfound determination. “we’re going to be okay, you know that, right? this distance... it won’t break us. it can’t this time.”

you nodded, feeling a sense of reassurance that had been missing for so long. 

“yeah, we will. and maybe... maybe we needed this. to grow, to understand each other better while having our own lives. but i don’t want to go through this again, trin. i need you in my life, no matter where we are.”

“same,” trinity agreed, her voice firm.

“no more avoiding each other.”

you squeezed her hand, feeling the warmth of her grip, the familiar connection that had always been there, now stronger than ever. “deal.”

“i heard about the new boyfriend, the one with your name. i have to meet him sometime– you know, just to approve of him.” you comment. 

“the same way i’ll have to meet salma someday.” 

hope you enjoyed <3

my master list is here if you want to read more fics!

[bailey41]

Bonus, for legends only:

Ok that was an exhausting campaign🏆🥇and apologies for Gianni Infantino

[gamergirl929]

For some reason when I picture a roadtrip with Alyssa Naeher and Mal Swanson, I see this:

[lessirussolvr]

[glimmerofawesome]

[womanwithahotdogstand]

Hey @/MLBonFox, let’s chat.

First of all, trying *this* hard to attach Mallory to Dansby on one of the biggest days of her life is gross. And if the roles were reversed it would never happen. I know that because Mallory was a reigning World Cup champion and an NWSL Championship finalist during the Braves 2021 World Series run and neither were mentioned one single solitary time.

Second of all, if you’re going to insist upon attaching a successful female athlete to a man, at least make sure it’s the right fucking successful female athlete, you buffoons.