i wish i was up to your expectations. (blurb)
background: having to date the #1 overall prospect in the nba as a 19 year old comes up to be the best things, until the media has things to say.
(all pics from pinterest, all rights reserved)
word count: 2.2k
notes: first coop fic?
warning: this is a alternative universe, keep this in mind! heavy angst. cooper is a sweetie pie throughout.
The first time the public really understood that Y/N Y/L/N and Cooper Flagg were serious was when the cameras caught them leaving Cameron Indoor together months before the draft.
They were both only eighteen.
Too young, the media said.
Too much pressure, the analysts claimed.
But none of those people saw the quiet parts of their relationship.
It had started so normally that it almost felt unbelievable now.
Back before the cameras.
Before the mock drafts.
Before the words “projected #1 overall pick.”
Back when Cooper was just the tall, slightly awkward freshman who sat crosslegged on the couch in Y/N’s dorm room while she tried to braid his hair just to see if it would work.
It didn’t.
He had laughed the whole time.
“You’re pulling my scalp out,” he complained, ducking his head while she tried to twist another section.
“You’re dramatic,” she shot back, squinting at the messy braid. “And you have too much hair.”
He leaned back against the couch cushions, long legs stretched out across the carpet.
“Still dating me though.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled.
“Unfortunately.”
Dating Cooper Flaggs meant dating a whirlwind.
They were talking about her.
Everywhere.
TikTok clips.
Twitter threads.
Reddit posts.
“Who is Cooper Flagg’s girlfriend?”
“Is she a distraction?”
“Does the future #1 pick need to focus more?”
Y/N tried not to read it.
Most of the time she succeeded.
But sometimes she didn’t.
And those nights usually ended with Cooper finding her staring at her phone with her jaw clenched.
“Hey,” he’d say softly, crouching in front of her.
His big hands would gently pull the phone from her grip.
“You promised.”
“I know,” she’d whisper.
He’d press his forehead to hers.
“None of those people know you.”
And the thing was…
He meant it.
By the time the NBA Draft rolled around, the pressure on Cooper was unimaginable.
Every analyst expected the same thing.
First pick.
Generational prospect.
Future superstar.
The draft was being held in New York that year, and the city buzzed like electricity.
Inside their hotel room that afternoon, Cooper was pacing while adjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket for the hundredth time.
“Do you think it’s too tight?” he asked.
Y/N didn’t even look up from the mirror where she was finishing her makeup.
“You asked me that five times.”
“Yeah but this time I mean it.”
She finally turned around.
He looked perfect.
Tall.
Sharp navy suit.
Hair neatly styled.
But he still looked nervous.
“Cooper.”
“What.”
“You’re going first.”
“I know.”
“You’re going first,” she repeated slowly.
He exhaled.
“Yeah.”
“And you’re still worried about your sleeves?”
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Maybe.”
That made her laugh.
Then she stood up.
And Cooper turned around.
And immediately froze.
“Whoa.”
She was wearing a dress he hadn’t seen yet.
She’d kept it a surprise.
It was deep midnight blue, hugging her waist before flowing down, with a slit that ran high up her leg. The fabric shimmered under the hotel lights, and the neckline dipped just enough to make Cooper’s brain short-circuit.
He blinked twice.
Then dragged a hand over his mouth.
“Whewww.”
Y/N burst out laughing.
“What?”
“You cannot wear that.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re trying to get me drafted second,” he said, pointing dramatically. “I’m gonna walk in there and forget my name.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You’re ridiculous.”
He stepped closer, looking her up and down again.
“Seriously though.”
His voice dropped.
“You look insane.”
Her cheeks warmed slightly.
“Good insane?”
“Like…” he shook his head, searching for words. “Like I’m gonna have to fight half the league insane.”
She shoved his shoulder.
“Relax.”
But secretly, his reaction made her feel amazing.
The night started perfectly.
Flashbulbs.
Red carpet interviews.
Commentators shouting questions.
“Cooper, how does it feel being the projected number one pick?”
“Who are you wearing tonight?”
“And who’s the beautiful woman with you?”
He answered calmly.
But every time he finished an interview, he’d glance back at Y/N like he was making sure she was still there.
And every time she smiled.
Everything felt surreal.
Until the commentary started.
At first it was subtle.
A reporter whispering near the stage.
A commentator muttering on live TV.
Then it became louder.
Crueler.
“Interesting outfit choice.”
“Pretty bold look for draft night.”
“Some might say she’s trying to steal the spotlight.”
“Is that really appropriate for a teenager?”
Y/N heard every word.
Even when people thought she couldn’t.
One reporter leaned toward another.
“She’s definitely enjoying the attention.”
Y/N’s smile tightened.
Across the room, Cooper was doing an interview.
He didn’t hear it.
But she did.
And the longer the night went on…
The worse it got.
Finally it was time.
The commissioner stepped to the podium.
The arena quieted.
“With the first pick in the NBA Draft…”
Cameras immediately swung toward Cooper.
Y/N grabbed his hand under the table.
He squeezed back.
“…the Dallas Mavericks select…”
A pause.
Then the words everyone expected.
“…Cooper Flagg.”
The room exploded.
Cheers.
Applause.
Cameras flashing.
Cooper stood immediately, stunned, smiling in disbelief.
Y/N stood with him.
She wrapped her arms around him first.
He hugged her tight.
“Holy-”
“You did it,” she whispered.
Then he turned to hug his parents.
His agent.
More cameras flooded around them.
Someone pulled him toward the stage.
And suddenly, Y/N was standing slightly behind him.
Still smiling.
Still waiting.
When Cooper turned after hugging his family, she instinctively lifted her arms again.
But a staff member was already guiding him toward the aisle.
“Right this way.”
The cameras followed him.
Not her.
And for a split second…
She was left there.
Arms half raised.
Hug hanging in the air.
It only lasted two seconds.
Maybe three.
But the internet caught it immediately.
By the time Cooper walked across the stage and shook hands with the commissioner, the clip was already spreading online.
“Girlfriend left hanging.”
“Awkward moment at draft.”
“Did Cooper Flagg ignore his girlfriend?”
Meanwhile, Y/N sat back down, pretending nothing happened.
Clapping.
Smiling.
But the media whispers had only gotten worse.
“She looks upset.”
“Well maybe she shouldn’t have worn that dress.”
“Trying to make it about herself.”
The comments sliced through the noise.
Later that night, when Cooper finally pushed through the crowd backstage, the first thing he did was look for her.
“Where is she?”
He spotted her near the wall.
Still smiling politely for photos.
But her shoulders were tight.
He walked straight up to her.
Without saying a word, he pulled her into a hug.
A real one.
Tight.
Lifting her slightly off the ground.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair.
“For what?”
“For everything.”
She pulled back.
“You just got drafted number one.”
“I know.”
“And you’re apologizing?”
He looked down at her.
“You got left hanging.”
She laughed softly.
“You noticed?”
“Of course I did.”
He brushed his thumb under her eye gently.
“You okay?”
Y/N glanced around at the cameras.
At the reporters.
At the flashing lights.
Then back at him.
“I will be.”
He nodded slowly.
Then wrapped his arm around her waist.
Pulling her close.
“Good.”
The months after the NBA Draft were supposed to feel like the beginning of something magical.
For Cooper Flagg, they were.
For Y/N Y/L/N, they were something else entirely.
Something heavier.
Something exhausting.
Summer slowly faded into early fall, and life had split in two directions.
Cooper was in Texas now, adjusting to life with the Dallas Mavericks. His days were packed with workouts, rookie media appearances, film sessions, and the endless blur of NBA expectations.
Meanwhile, Y/N was back on campus at Duke University.
Trying to be normal.
Trying to go to class.
Trying to exist.
But normal had disappeared the moment Cooper’s name was called first overall.
The first time she noticed it was outside her dorm building.
She stepped outside early one morning, backpack slung over one shoulder, coffee in hand, hair tied up lazily.
And there were two cameras.
Standing across the sidewalk.
They weren’t subtle either.
The moment she stepped outside..
Click.
Click.
Click.
She froze.
One of the men lifted his camera slightly.
“Morning, Y/N.”
Her stomach dropped.
“How did you-”
“Any comment about Cooper’s rookie season expectations?”
“Do you plan on moving to Dallas?”
“Were you upset about the draft night moment?”
Her chest tightened.
She hadn’t even made it to class yet.
“I… I’m late,” she muttered quietly before walking past them.
But the cameras followed.
Every step.
Click.
Click.
Click.
It didn’t stop there.
Over the next few weeks, it became routine.
Outside lecture halls.
Walking through the quad.
Leaving the dining hall with her friends.
Someone always had a phone out.
Someone always whispered.
Sometimes it was reporters.
Sometimes it was just students recording her for TikTok.
“Wait that’s Cooper Flagg’s girlfriend.”
“Ask her about the hug thing.”
“I heard he’s already cheating in Dallas.”
“Do you think she’s gonna move?”
The comments never stopped.
And slowly, quietly…
Y/N began shrinking.
She stopped sitting in the front of classes.
Stopped lingering outside after lectures.
Stopped going to campus events with her friends.
The world felt smaller now.
Like every step she took was being watched.
Judged.
Analyzed.
One afternoon, she sat alone on a bench near Duke’s gardens, staring down at her phone.
Her group chat was blowing up.
Links.
Videos.
Tweets.
A sports show clip played automatically.
A panel of commentators sat around a desk.
One of them leaned forward with a smirk.
“Listen, I’m not saying Cooper Flagg’s girlfriend is a distraction…”
Pause.
“But I’m saying she’s everywhere.”
Another analyst chuckled.
“That draft night dress definitely started the conversation.”
Y/N shut her phone off.
Her hands trembled slightly.
The words echoed in her head.
Distraction.
She pressed her palms against her eyes.
For the first time in weeks…
She felt very, very small.
Meanwhile, in Dallas, Cooper was finishing practice.
Sweat clung to his neck as he grabbed his phone from the locker room bench.
He had three missed FaceTime calls from Y/N.
His stomach tightened immediately.
He called back.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Then she answered.
“Hey,” she said softly.
Something about her voice made his chest tighten.
“Hey my love,” he replied gently.
There was a pause.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He leaned against the locker.
“You sure?”
“Just tired.”
Cooper knew that tone.
The one where she was trying to sound normal.
He ran a hand through his hair.
“What happened today?”
“Nothing.”
“Y/N.”
Another pause.
Then her voice cracked slightly.
“They were outside my dorm again.”
His jaw clenched instantly.
“The reporters?”
“Yeah.”
Silence filled the line.
Then she whispered something that broke his heart.
“I don’t feel loved anymore, Coop.”
The words hit him like a punch.
“What?”
“I just feel like…” she struggled to explain. “Everyone hates me. Like I’m the villain in your story.”
His chest tightened.
“You’re not.”
“But that’s how they treat me.”
He didn’t hesitate.
“Pack a bag.”
“What?”
“Come to Dallas.”
She blinked on the other end of the call.
“Cooper-”
“I’m serious.”
“Your schedule-”
“I’ll make time.”
He exhaled slowly.
“I just need you here.”
Two days later, she landed in Texas.
The warm Dallas air wrapped around her as she stepped outside the airport.
Her nerves buzzed in her chest.
She hadn’t seen Cooper in almost a month.
A black SUV waited near the curb.
The driver smiled politely.
“Miss Y/L/N?”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Flagg asked me to bring you to him.”
Her heart skipped.
The car pulled up to a quiet house outside the city.
When she stepped out, the front door was already open.
And Cooper stood there.
Tall.
Barefoot.
Wearing a simple hoodie and sweatpants.
The moment he saw her, his face softened.
“Hey my love.”
Before she could say anything, he walked down the steps and wrapped his arms around her.
Not rushed.
Not distracted.
Just warm.
Secure.
She buried her face in his chest.
God, she missed him.
“I missed you,” he murmured into her hair.
“I missed you too.”
Then he gently took her hand.
“Come here.”
He led her inside.
And the moment she stepped into the living room, she stopped.
The entire space was filled with white roses.
Hundreds of them.
Arranged across tables.
Along the windows.
Soft petals glowing in the evening light.
Her mouth fell open.
“Cooper…”
He scratched the back of his neck shyly.
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
Her eyes watered immediately.
“You filled your house with flowers?”
“Well,” he shrugged sheepishly, “you like white roses.”
She laughed through tears.
“I do.”
He stepped closer.
Gently cupping her face.
“Listen to me.”
She looked up at him.
“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said firmly.
His voice was steady.
Certain.
“I don’t care what the media says.”
He brushed a tear from her cheek.
“I don’t care what people online think.”
His forehead rested against hers.
“I love you.”
Her chest tightened.
“I just… needed to hear that.”
His arms wrapped around her again.
“You’ll hear it every day if you want.”
She smiled softly.
Standing there in the middle of a room full of white roses.
For the first time in months…
Y/N finally felt like someone saw her.
Not the headlines.
Not the commentary.
Just her.
That was all she had ever been.
