#everyone else... still big anxiety 🫠🫠

[ellswritings]

You Never Noticed

Emotional cheater!Cody Rhodes/Runnels x reader

Part 2

TW: Emotional cheating on Cody’s end. Lots of angst. Heartbreak. Use of real names. I know a lot yall wanted another Cody imagine, and I’m sure this isn’t what was wanted, but I’m in a sad mood 🫠.

Tags: @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling

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Being the quarterback of the company wasn’t easy. Cody always wanted to be at the center of it all. To fight for his legacy, his family’s legacy, to show the people he was their champion. He threw himself into his work, never giving up even when things seemed stacked against him.

That’s one of the many things that drew Y/N to him in the first place. They had bumped into each other years before when Y/N herself was a wrestler in the company. However, accidents happen, and when she broke her back after a botched belly to back suplex from Charlotte Flair, returning in-ring became nothing but a fever dream.

Thankfully, she had created a big enough name for herself to be offered the general manager position on SmackDown. It broke her heart to lose what she loved, but she learned to love her new role as well.

But when Cody Runnels came back to the company, that’s when her life changed. It started off slow, but The American Nightmare was quick to charm the normally professional and witty GM.

When they started dating, no one was surprised. In fact, it was almost expected. They never were unprofessional onscreen, but everyone knew how they felt about each other. They were easily the blueprint to a perfect relationship, well, for the first year or so at least.

The cracks started forming a few months ago. It originated with him coming home or back to their shared hotel rooms later than expected. Then it turned into him flaking on plans they had made before shows to go to the arena early. Him choosing to go to the gym alone instead of with her. Forgetting important events that meant something to her. To even avoiding her at work because he was so “busy.”

For a while, Y/N understood. She knew what kind of pressure he was under. She was under it once too. She never took it personally until she heard him walk into their hotel room late one night, clearly on the phone with someone.

His voice was soft, delicate, the one she hadn’t heard in months. The one that used to be reserved for her. His infectious laugh was low and gravelly, no doubt trying to keep his voice down so he wouldn’t wake her. He just didn’t know she never slept until she knew he was back.

At that point, she wished she would have been asleep. Then maybe she wouldn’t have had to deal with that gut wrenching feeling hearing him talk so freely with someone who wasn’t her. Her heart wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. That maybe he was talking to his mom or his sister, the two most important women in his life. But her mind knew better.

He was still there with her physically, but it’s clear his mind was somewhere else. Y/N didn’t know how to approach him anymore. She didn’t know what to say or how to say it so it wouldn’t come off as an accusation. It terrified her to accuse him of something he might not even be doing, but it’s eating her alive not to know if her anxieties are right.

She’s never been one to let her personal life impact her work, but watching the man she gave everything to, gave everything up for, moved to a completely different state away from her family just so they could be together, it messed with her mind. She didn’t trust easily, she never has. But with Cody, it was easy. She let her guard down for him but now it feels like he doesn’t even know her at all.

Or maybe he doesn’t want to. Not anymore.

Y/N ran a hand over her face in frustration as she read over another email from a faceless exec who has never even stepped foot into one of their training centers, telling her that new releases would be coming up soon. This was the one part of the job she hated. She was expected to pull up numbers and hand them over to Paul so the board could decide who they wanted to cut from the company.

Having to look at someone who she’s no doubt known for years and let them know they would be losing their job had to be the hardest thing in the world. And having her internal struggle with Cody only made it that much more stressful.

A knock sounded on her office door, forcing her to look up. “Come in,” she tells whoever is trying to get her attention.

“Hey Y/N,” Andrew Galloway’s Scottish accent filled her office as he slowly opened the door. He popped only his head in, keeping the rest of his body outside as if he was afraid of interrupting her. “Someone said you wanted to see me?”

“Hey Drew,” Y/N smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, come in.” She moves some scattered papers out of the way as the six foot five male enters, shutting the door respectfully behind him. Y/N continues shuffling around. Anyone else would’ve thought it was just her reorganizing, but Drew knew her better than that. He could see something was bothering her. It had started a while back when he first noticed, but Y/N’s always been independent. She doesn’t need or want anyone’s help. However, it still concerned him to see his close friend in such a state.

“I just wanted to call you in here and go over some last minute changes with the script for you and Luis’ segment,” she huffs, finally taking her seat again. Once she meets his eyes though, he can visibly see how tired she is. She may not have any bags under her eyes, but it’s not hard to tell there’s something taking a toll on her.

Drew didn’t look down at the pages.

Not immediately, anyway.

His gaze stayed fixed on her—on the hollow look in her eyes, the tightness in her jaw, the way her knuckles paled from how hard she was gripping the edge of her desk. He couldn’t remember the last time she smiled like she meant it. Not in weeks. Maybe longer.

Y/N tapped her pen twice against the table, the rhythmic click sharp against the low hum of the office lights. “It’s just minor stuff, nothing crazy. I moved you guys a bit earlier so it flows better after the tag match. I’ve already run it by him, and he’s good with it. I just wanted you in the loop.”

She sounded normal—too normal. Polished, professional. Like nothing in the world was wrong. But her voice had that practiced crispness people used when they were hiding behind it.

Drew nodded slowly, still not touching the papers. “Got it.”

She looked back down at the emails in front of her, pretending to scroll, eyes darting too quickly across the screen to be reading. Her leg bounced beneath the desk. The pen clicked again.

He hated seeing her like this. Like she was trying to convince herself she could just power through whatever storm she was drowning in.

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?” he asked, voice softer than usual, cutting through the quiet.

That made her pause. The pen stopped. Her eyes flicked up to him.

She smiled—too fast, too forced. “What? Of course I have. Just a long week. You know how it is before a PLE.”

Drew tilted his head, unimpressed. “You forget how long I’ve known you?”

She laughed, but it was paper-thin. “I’m fine, Drew.”

She wasn’t. Not even close.

Her skin was a shade paler than usual, eyes rimmed faintly in red like she hadn’t cried but had come dangerously close. There was a weariness to her movements, like even reaching for her water bottle took effort.

He let his eyes drift down—nails chewed to the quick, the thin crescent indents in her palms from where she’d clearly been clenching her fists too tight for too long. And that photo frame. The Polaroid. Her and Cody. Still facedown, like she couldn’t bear to look at it anymore.

The most damning thing, though, wasn’t the physical evidence. It was the absence of something she used to carry without even trying: light.

She used to walk into rooms and make people feel like they belonged. She used to throw out quick-witted banter with a glint in her eye and fire in her chest. She used to look at him—Cody—with this soft, unshakeable kind of love that made people jealous.

Now, all anyone saw in her eyes when he was around was quiet disdain.

A cooling resentment. The kind that built slowly, in silence, like snow on a rooftop just waiting to collapse.

And Cody didn’t even seem to notice.

“I know it’s not my business,” Drew said finally, voice firmer now, “but you should know you’re not fooling anybody.”

Y/N’s smile faded, her jaw flexing as she stared at a spot on her desk. “There’s nothing going on,” she murmured. “Really.”

“Bullshite.”

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing in offense—but Drew wasn’t backing down. “You think I don’t see it? You’ve gone quiet, you hardly eat, and you used to look at him like he hung the bloody moon. Now I see you in catering pretending not to notice when he walks in. And when you do look at him, it’s like your chest physically aches.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed, eyes glossy.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.

“I know you, Y/N. Better than you think. You keep everything bottled in until it eats you alive.” Drew stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Whatever’s going on between you and Cody… don’t let it break you before you’ve had a chance to fight back.”

“I am fighting,” she snapped quietly, voice cracking. “I have been. Every single day. But you can’t fight someone who won’t meet you halfway.”

Silence stretched between them.

Drew’s jaw clenched as he looked down at her—shoulders drawn up like she was holding her world together with both hands, just waiting for one more wrong word to make it all collapse.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he admitted, eyes softening. “You don’t deserve to become a stranger to yourself just because someone else forgot who you are.”

Y/N’s eyes stung. She bit her lip hard enough to leave a mark. “I just want it to go back to the way it was. Before all of this. Before I had to wonder if I was enough.”

“You are enough. Always were.”

She closed her eyes. “Doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

Drew let that sit there for a moment before stepping back, nodding quietly, as if he understood all too well.

“If you ever need someone to remind you who the hell you are, you know where to find me.”

Then, after one last glance at the photo frame, he left.

The second Drew stepped out of Y/N’s office, the door clicking shut behind him, a breath left his chest that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His footsteps echoed faintly down the hall, the weight of everything she didn’t say pressing down harder than the words she had managed to get out.

He had known something was wrong.

But now, he was certain: she was breaking. Quietly. Elegantly. In that terrifying way strong people fall apart—only when no one’s looking.

Drew didn’t go back to the locker room. Didn’t bother with the script changes she’d handed him. He was already moving, heading toward catering where he knew he’d find the one person who could pry open what Y/N kept sealed shut: Jessica Woynilko.

He found her perched at a table, platinum hair swept over one shoulder, AirPods in and phone in hand as she scrolled absently through social media. Her heels were kicked off beneath her chair, a cup of iced coffee melting slowly in front of her.

“Jess.”

She glanced up, brow lifting in surprise as she pulled one earbud out. “Hey. What’s up?”

Drew didn’t waste time. “It’s Y/N.”

That got her attention.

She straightened immediately, her playful ease vanishing in an instant. “What about her?”

“She’s not okay.”

Jessica blinked, slowly setting her phone down, the full weight of his tone sinking in. “What do you mean?”

Drew folded his arms, lowering his voice. “She’s trying to act like everything’s normal, but she’s worn down to the bone. Said she’s sleeping, but her hands are shaking. Said she’s eating, but I doubt she’s had more than coffee all day. That photo of her and Cody’s been facedown for who knows how long.”

Jessica’s expression hardened.

She had been watching it too, from a distance. The way Y/N stopped sitting with them at catering. The way she started staying back in her office between segments. How she laughed less. Smiled less. How her presence had dimmed.

But hearing it confirmed by someone as observant as Drew made it all feel real. Tangible.

“Has he done something?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Drew admitted. “But whatever it is, it’s killing her. She won’t say it, not yet. But you can see it in the way she moves. Like she’s carrying the weight of both of them alone.”

Jessica stood up, already gathering her things. “Where is she now?”

“In her office. But she’s got that look—the one she gets when she’s on the edge but doesn’t want anyone to see it.”

Jessica nodded, jaw set. “Then I won’t let her be alone.”

She slipped her heels back on and tossed her empty coffee into the bin before brushing past Drew.

“Oh, and Jess?”

She turned halfway back.

“If it is Cody, which I’m sure it is,” Drew added, his voice lower now, clipped and tight, “I don’t care how good his intentions were. If he let her get like this without noticing… he doesn’t deserve to be near her.”

Tiffany’s eyes flashed. “He won’t be. Not unless she says he can.”

Then she disappeared down the hallway, leaving Drew standing there, tension still coiled in his chest.

Because if there was one thing more dangerous than a woman hurt—it was the people who loved her stepping in to pick up the pieces.

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The silence in her office had become a living thing.

It breathed alongside her, settled into her bones, wrapped around her like smoke. The faint hum of the computer, the gentle tick of the wall clock—none of it pierced the fog in her mind.

Y/N stared blankly at the monitor in front of her. The email she was meant to be responding to blurred out of focus, the cursor blinking endlessly like a reminder she was still here. Still functioning.

Except she wasn’t. Not really.

Her fingers hovered above the keyboard, unmoving, until her vision glazed. Her gaze dropped to the framed photo still facedown beside her mousepad. She reached for it but stopped halfway, her hand curling into a soft fist instead.

And just like that, she was somewhere else.

The hotel room was dimly lit by the lamp beside the bed, casting long shadows on the carpet. Y/N stood frozen by the sink, toothbrush idle in her hand, her eyes locked on the soft glow of Cody’s phone screen across the room.

She hadn't meant to look.

She wasn’t the type to snoop. She respected privacy—respected him. But she’d heard the soft chime. That familiar vibration against the wood. And when she glanced over, her stomach dropped.

Madeline.

A newer girl on RAW. Bright-eyed. Athletic. Still finding her place. Cody had mentioned her in passing before.

Her message was right there on the lock screen.

"Kinda missed you today. You gonna come say hi before call time tomorrow? You owe me a story from the plane 😘"

Y/N didn’t move for a moment. The emoji. The tone. The casual warmth. It didn’t scream affair, but it whispered something close. Something intimate. Something that used to belong to her.

The bathroom light behind her flicked off with a quiet snap.

“Hey babe,” Cody said as he stepped out, rubbing a towel through his hair, shirtless, relaxed.

She didn’t respond right away.

“Cody,” she said finally, slowly. “Why’s Madeline texting you this late?”

He paused—half a beat too long. She noticed. She always noticed.

He glanced toward the phone, saw the still-lit message, and his jaw tensed before he smoothed it away. “She’s just reaching out as one of the newbies to talk to veterans about ring advice” he said easily, shrugging like it meant nothing. “She’s cool. Young. Ambitious. Reminds me of what it was like to be starting out.”

Y/N turned slightly toward him, voice quiet but steady. “Didn’t seem like she was messaging you for advice. Sounded a little… personal.”

He chuckled. “She’s just friendly.”

“Cody…” Her fingers tightened on the counter edge. “That’s not how it reads. She misses you. Wants stories from the plane. Why is she comfortable texting you like that?”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t raise his voice.

“Because she gets it. She understands what this life is. The pressure. The grind. She’s in it. Every day. She’s on the road. She’s tired and sore and still has to smile through press.”

He stepped closer. “You used to get it, too.”

That cut deeper than anything else. He said it like she’d aged out of relevance. Like her pain, her past, her sacrifice didn’t qualify anymore.

“I do get it,” she said, her voice cracking despite herself. “You think because I wear heels and book segments now that I forgot what it’s like to wake up sore, to miss birthdays, to be exhausted but still go out there and perform?”

He looked at her, jaw flexing. “It’s not the same anymore, Y/N.”

She blinked, as if struck.

“You’re not active,” he continued. “You don’t train the way we do now. You don’t have to get in the ring and cut a promo with jetlag, or eat a clothesline ten minutes after touching down in a new city. You just don’t… live it the way we do anymore.”

We.

Him and Madeline.

Not them—not anymore.

She swallowed, hard, her throat suddenly raw. “So that’s what this is about? You have more in common with her now?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples, already tired of the conversation. “No, it’s not like that. You’re twisting it.”

“I’m not twisting anything. I’m just trying to understand why you don’t look at me like I matter anymore.”

That made him pause. But only briefly.

He reached out, pulled her into a loose embrace, resting his chin on top of her head.

“You do matter,” he murmured, kissing her temple. “You always will. Don’t let your head make up stuff that isn’t real.”

But it was real.

His arms were around her, but his mind was somewhere else. Maybe still in the arena. Maybe still with her. His kiss didn’t linger. His hold didn’t tighten. And when he pulled away, it felt like a relief for him—not her.

She stood in the bathroom doorway after he turned off the light and crawled into bed, feeling hollow.

Because that’s when she knew.

It wasn’t physical.

But she’d already lost him.

He didn’t need to touch Madeline for it to count.

He’d already given her what used to be sacred—his softest voice, his attention, his light.

Back in her office, Y/N blinked hard, pulling herself out of the memory. Her hands were clenched in her lap, nails leaving new crescent shapes in her skin.

She used to wake up every morning excited to see him. To hear his voice. To be in the same room.

Now, when people looked at her, they didn’t see that woman anymore.

They didn’t see the softness, the warmth, the light that used to follow her like a second skin.

They just saw a woman slowly disappearing.

They saw disgust in her eyes when he spoke. And maybe it wasn’t even for him. Maybe it was for herself—for still loving a man who didn’t see her anymore.

And then a knock pulled her violently out of her own head.

“Y/N?” Jessica’s voice.

She took a shaky breath. “Come in.”

The door eased open and Tiffany stepped in quietly, her signature pink heels unusually muted against the floor, as if she was trying not to startle her. Her usual bright energy was toned down, carefully measured.

Y/N didn’t look up at first. She was still staring down at her hands, silently willing herself to get it together before she had to.

“Hey…” Jessica said gently, closing the door behind her.

Y/N’s lips parted, but no sound came out. She cleared her throat quickly and forced her voice to stay even. “Hey. Something wrong with your segment?”

Jessica blinked, then let out a soft, exhale-laugh. “No. Not a thing. Andrew just mentioned you seemed a little… off today, so I figured I’d check in.”

Y/N’s jaw tensed. “Drew’s being dramatic,” she murmured, grabbing a random pen off the desk just to give her hands something to do. “I’m fine. Just a long week.”

Jessica didn’t answer. She just walked slowly toward the desk, those ice-blue eyes taking in every inch of her. The slouched shoulders. The distant gaze. The thin smile that never met her eyes.

“You haven’t been fine in weeks.”

That hit harder than Y/N expected it to. She looked up sharply, but Jessica wasn’t accusing. She was just there. Solid. Soft. Concerned. And it made something ache behind Y/N’s ribs. “I’m just tired,” she tried again, shaking her head, as if the motion alone would convince them both. “It’s a lot of responsibility. It catches up sometimes, that’s all.”

Jessica leaned on the edge of the desk, one hip perched, hands folded neatly in front of her. “That’s not all.”

Y/N felt her throat tighten. Her eyes burned before she could stop them. She blinked quickly, glancing away like the filing cabinet had suddenly become riveting.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” Jessica said without hesitation. “I already know.”

That was the worst part. The knowing. Because she hadn’t told anyone. Hadn’t said Cody’s name in this context out loud, not even once. But it was obvious. It lived in the way she carried herself. The way she didn’t walk the same anymore. How she didn’t crack jokes with the talent as often. How her backstage segments seemed shorter to avoid being out of her office. The way she was going through the motions with every bit of her but her heart.

She used to look at him with so much love, it made other people believe in forever. But not anymore. Things changed between them, and it showed. Not in her words. Not in dramatic gestures. But in the silence. The way her eyes dulled when he walked into the room. The way she always found something else to focus on when he spoke.

“I’m still trying,” Y/N whispered, voice so raw it scraped her throat. “I keep trying. But I feel like I’m screaming underwater, and he doesn’t even notice I’m drowning.”

Jessica reached across the desk and gently took Y/N’s hand in hers.

No big speech. No forced advice. Just steady, grounding warmth.

“If you ever need a break,” she said softly, “you can come stay with me. Doesn’t matter how long. You don’t even have to call. You just show up, and I’ll be there.”

Y/N finally looked at her. Really looked. And in that moment, the tears welled too fast to catch. She blinked again, a single one slipping down her cheek. She didn’t brush it away.

Jessica didn’t mention it. She just squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“Even strong girls deserve to fall apart sometimes,” she said. “Especially the ones who hold everyone else together.”

Y/N nodded once, small and quick. Like if she did it too slow, she might break open. And maybe she will eventually, but at least she has friends like this to be there when she falls.

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The hallway lights felt too bright.

Y/N’s boots echoed down the concrete floor of the backstage corridor, each step measured, precise, like she was holding herself together one click at a time. She’d slipped her headset off in her office, trading it for the persona everyone knew—the unshakable General Manager of SmackDown. The woman who ran the show with clean efficiency and an iron spine.

She could lie with posture. With presence. It was the only thing keeping her upright right now.

Her upcoming segment was just ahead with Solo Sikoa and Jacob Fatu—easy enough. Both men respected her deeply. They were warm, loyal, and more protective than most people gave them credit for. A couple of minutes, smile, play the part. Then she could disappear again.

She turned the corner—

And the world tilted.

There he was. Cody.

Back leaned against one of the gear crates, laughing. That deep, unrestrained laugh that used to be hers. That used to bubble out of him when she’d whisper something ridiculous in his ear during commercial breaks, when she’d tug him closer by his tie in the Gorilla position, when he was still hers.

His voice rang out. Not loud. But clear. Low and soft, like it always was when he wasn’t wearing his performer’s mask. It was the voice she used to hear whispered against her skin. The one he hadn’t used with her in weeks.

And he wasn’t alone.

Madeline. The new blonde who'd been traveling more and more lately. NXT call-up. Young, talented. Had just been transferred to SmackDown from Raw for storyline reasons, a trade Y/N wasn’t too happy about. The one Cody had insisted was "just cool to talk to."

She stood close to him. So close their shoulders nearly touched.

Y/N ducked behind a side curtain instinctively, her chest tightening as she caught their voices.

Madeline laughed first, and it was the kind of laugh meant to be heard. Light, teasing. Intimate. “You always lean in like that when you’re about to say something real, y’know that?”

Cody chuckled under his breath. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Madeline said softly. “It’s endearing.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted. She couldn’t see them from where she stood, but she didn’t need to. She could hear it. That slow-rolling tone in Cody’s voice. The ease. The warmth. The attention.

It used to belong to her.

“How’s your shoulder?” Cody asked her next.

“Better. You were right about that stretch,” Madeline replied. “See? I listen when you give advice.”

There was a pause. “Wish more people did,” he muttered, almost too low to catch.

Madeline stepped in closer; Y/N could hear the shift in her voice. “Is this about Y/N?”

Silence.

Y/N’s hands gripped the clipboard so tight the metal clip dug into her palm.

“She’s just… different lately,” Cody finally said, and his voice carried a weight it hadn’t in weeks. “I don’t think she gets how much pressure I’m under sometimes.”

Madeline gave a breathy hum. “Because she’s not in the ring anymore?”

He didn’t answer at first.

Then: “Exactly. She used to understand. But now it’s like… everything I do is under a microscope. She’s constantly asking if I’m okay, if I’m tired, if I’m ‘still here.’ Like—”

“Like you’re being guilt-tripped for doing your job,” Madeline finished for him.

Y/N’s throat went dry.

“She used to be proud of me,” Cody said. “Now all she sees is what I’m not doing.”

“I see you,” Madeline whispered.

The words cut like glass. Y/N stepped back, breath shuddering in her chest. Her nails bit into the clipboard hard enough to leave crescent marks in the wood. She blinked fast, fighting the sting building in her eyes. She couldn’t cry now. Not here.

She wouldn’t give them that.

Her feet moved before her brain could catch up. One step. Then another. Until she rounded the corner and—

Slammed her shoulder straight into Cody’s.

Harder than necessary.

His eyes snapped up, startled. Madeline’s smile faltered as Y/N brushed past them without a word, her face impassive. Professional. Untouchable.

But inside? Inside, she was screaming.

Y/N swallowed hard, blinking the blur from her vision as she moved through the next hallway like a ghost, her stilettos clicking too loudly over concrete.

The voices behind her faded, replaced by the thrum of adrenaline and lighting cues. Blue strobes flashed from the entrance curtain, her cue. She adjusted the jacket of her fitted navy pantsuit, ran her tongue along her teeth, and bit the inside of her cheek until the sting chased off the ache in her chest.

She was still the SmackDown General Manager. Even if she felt like a stranger in her own body.

“Y/N.”

Solo’s deep voice cut through the noise as she stepped into gorilla. His brow furrowed immediately when he saw her face. Beside him, Jacob Fatu leaned forward from the equipment case he’d been perched on, brows raising in sync.

“You good, sweetheart?” Solo asked lowly, his tone rough around the edges but concerned.

Y/N gave a tight smile. “Fine.”

She always said it the same way. Controlled. Too quick.

Jacob stood, his wide frame casting a shadow over the monitors. “You sure?” he asked, tipping his chin toward her. “’Cause looks like you bouta kill somebody.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated, jaw stiff.

Solo folded his arms across his chest, the Samoan tattoos flexing with the movement. “You don’t look fine.”

Y/N blinked hard, then exhaled through her nose. “I just need to get through this segment. Don’t worry about me.”

Jacob exchanged a glance with his cousin. “Someone botherin’ you?”

She didn’t answer.

Solo leaned in, voice gruff. “Say the word. We’ll handle it.”

Y/N finally turned to them. Her shoulders sank, just a little. It wasn’t a full crack in the armor, but it was something. She gave them a tired, grateful smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I appreciate it. But I can handle myself.”

Jacob muttered something under his breath. She didn’t catch all of it, but she heard enough to know it involved someone getting their jaw rocked.

Solo didn’t speak again. He just stepped slightly in front of her, like a human wall, shielding her from wandering eyes backstage as her music hit and the crowd roared.

She stood behind him in the gorilla position, breathing deep, her hands shaking slightly at her sides.

He used to look at me like that. That’s all she could think. Cody used to look at her the way he looked at Madeline. And now he barely looked at her at all.

The red light above the entrance blinked. They were live.

Y/N plastered on a smile, lifted her chin, and started their segment.

Her heart stayed behind.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Cody’s eyes remained locked on the hallway where Y/N had disappeared. His brow furrowed, arms crossed over his chest like he was trying to hold something together.

Madeline tilted her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lip. “C’mon, it’s not that serious. She barely even touched you.”

Cody shook his head slightly. “It’s just… not like her, that’s all. Normally she would say something.”

“She’s been moody for weeks, Cody,” Madeline said, voice dropping to something sugar-sweet and venom-laced. “Let’s not pretend she’s been this ray of sunshine lately. Maybe if she lightened up a little—”

“She’s under a lot of pressure,” he murmured. “So am I.”

Madeline rolled her eyes. “Exactly. We are. She’s not the only one who’s allowed to be tired. You can’t keep breaking yourself in half for someone who doesn’t even see what you’re giving.” Her eyes rolls as she tries to calm the man, “I mean, I’ll give her her flowers or whatever, she did what she did for the business, but that was years ago. The landscape has changed. She can’t be mad just because she can’t keep up anymore.”

Before Cody could respond, a low voice cut in behind them.

“Oi.”

Cody turned around to see Drew McIntyre heading their way, broad shoulders squared and gait deliberate. He didn’t look pissed exactly, but he sure as hell didn’t look friendly.

“Hey, what’s up, man?” Cody greeted, offering a casual half-smile.

Drew stopped a few feet away, eyes flicking briefly to Madeline before settling on Cody with a weight that could crush stone. “Was just wonderin’,” he said, voice quiet but steady, “how long you’ve been actin’ like a right knob.”

Cody blinked, unsure if he’d heard him right. “What?”

Drew gestured vaguely down the hallway where Y/N had gone. “She just walked past me lookin’ like the world collapsed under her feet. Eyes glassy, like she was hangin’ on by a bloody thread.”

Cody’s smile faded. “I… I don’t know what’s goin’ on with her. She won’t talk to me.”

“Aye,” Drew said with a nod, “and why d’you think that is?”

Cody shrugged, caught off guard. “Drew, I didn’t do anything—”

“Exactly,” Drew cut in, stepping forward. “You didn’t do a damn thing. Not when it mattered.”

Madeline huffed. “Oh for god’s sake—”

“D’you mind?” Drew snapped without even looking at her. “If I wanted the opinion of a homewrecker I’dve asked sweetheart. Though I s’pose desperation has no bounds.”

Madeline took a step back, bristling, but went quiet.

Drew turned his attention back to Cody, voice quieter but somehow heavier. “You know how many times I’ve seen her sat in that office late as hell, starin’ at her phone like she’s waitin’ for it to ring? Seen her fake a smile so no one asks what’s wrong?”

Cody frowned, defensive. “Drew, come on—”

“She used to glow when you were around, mate,” Drew said, jabbing a finger toward him. “Now she walks through this place like a bloody ghost. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t sleep. Doesn’t breathe right.”

Cody looked away, jaw tightening.

“You think she doesn’t notice you whisperin’ with her all the time?” Drew jerked his chin toward Madeline. “You think she doesn’t see the way you look at her like you used to look at Y/N?”

“That’s not fair,” Cody muttered.

“What’s not fair,” Drew said, stepping in closer now, voice low and firm, “is makin’ a woman like that feel like she’s not enough. What’s not fair is watchin’ her give up everythin’ — her career, her family, her goddamn confidence — just to be with you, and you treat her like a bloody inconvenience.”

Madeline finally found her voice again. “Maybe she should’ve toughened up if she wanted to be with someone in this business.”

Drew’s head turned slowly toward her, and the glare he gave her could’ve frozen a bonfire. “Maybe you should shut your gob before you say somethin’ that gets your ass dropped backstage.”

She blinked, stunned silent.

Then Drew turned back to Cody, shaking his head slowly.

“You were supposed to be the dream, aye? The man with the legacy, the heart, the bloody purpose,” he said. “But lately, you’re just a coward in a nice suit, hidin’ behind excuses and cheap smiles.”

Cody’s voice was tight now. “Drew, this isn’t your business.”

“It became my business the second you broke her,” Drew growled. “And believe me when I say — if we weren’t live right now, I’d have put you through the floor by now.”

Cody stared at him, speechless.

Drew didn’t wait for a response. He turned, but not before delivering one last blow.

“You don’t deserve her,” he said, eyes cold. “You never did.”

And with that, he walked off down the corridor, leaving silence — and guilt — in his wake.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The Atlanta air hung thick and still, the early evening sun casting a golden haze across the quiet suburban street. The usual hum of the neighborhood felt far away as Y/N stood in the center of the living room she’d once called home — their home.

Cody hadn’t come back since the show wrapped a few hours ago. Jess had known he wouldn’t. That’s why she’d insisted they do it now.

“He’s probably still out with her,” Jessica said softly as she taped the last box shut, her words gentle but edged with protective fire. “Let’s just get your things and go before he gets the chance to stop you.”

Y/N didn’t respond at first. She just stood there, eyes fixed on a framed photo of her and Cody from last year’s WrestleMania afterparty — her sitting on his shoulders in the middle of the ring, champagne in hand, the brightest smile on her face. That version of them felt like a lifetime ago.

“I saw them,” she finally whispered.

Jess paused, eyes flicking toward her. “You mean backstage?”

Y/N gave a small, shaky nod as she wrapped the picture in a towel and placed it in a box, not because she wanted to save it, but because throwing it away felt too heavy in that moment.

“She was leaned in so close,” Y/N said, voice thick with the memory. “Laughing at everything he said. And he let her. He let her be close. He looked… happy. The way he used to look at me when we were just starting out. Before everything.”

Jess moved to her side, gently placing a hand on her back.

“They were talking like they’d known each other forever. I heard her say she gets him — that she understands him. And he didn’t even correct her. Just smiled like she was right.” Her voice broke slightly. “I wanted to scream at him. Remind him that I used to wrestle. That I do get it. But none of it would’ve mattered.”

Y/N looked down, tears brimming in her lashes but not falling yet. “He hasn’t seen me in months, Jess. Not really. He kisses me out of basic relationship expectations. He talks to me like I’m a schedule to manage. I don’t know when I stopped being enough for him.”

Jessica didn’t say anything at first. She just pulled her into a hug, arms strong around her shoulders as Y/N finally let the tears fall.

“You didn’t stop being enough,” she murmured fiercely. “He just stopped seeing the gold in what he had. You deserve more than scraps of love, Y/N. You deserve the whole damn thing.”

Y/N wiped at her cheeks again as she and Jessica carried the last of the boxes out of the house. The sun had nearly dipped below the skyline now, casting long shadows over the driveway of what had once been a home. It felt empty already, even though the walls were still standing.

They reached the cars, and Jess moved to open the back of her SUV when the distant rumble of a truck made Y/N freeze mid-step. Her heart thudded. For a terrifying second, she thought it might be Cody.

But then the familiar black pickup rolled up and came to a gentle stop by the curb.

Drew.

She didn’t even need to ask how he knew. Jessica had always been her ride or die — and when it came to Drew, the loyalty extended far deeper. He killed the engine and stepped out slowly, his expression unreadable as he took them in — the packed boxes, the way Y/N looked like she’d cried herself hollow.

Y/N stood still, arms wrapped around herself. Her fingers clenched the hem of her hoodie like it was the only thing keeping her from unraveling. She hadn’t planned on seeing him tonight, not like this — not when she felt so raw, so undone.

But Drew didn’t speak at first.

He just walked up and wrapped his arms around her.

And Y/N broke.

Her fingers dug into the back of his flannel shirt as a sob ripped silently through her. There were no loud gasps or hysterics — just the kind of grief that made her body fold in on itself. Her face pressed into his chest as he held her tighter, one large hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.

“I’m here,” he murmured, voice thick and low in his chest. “I’ve got you, hen. Let it out.”

She did.

It was all too much — the way Cody smiled at another woman like she was his light, the way he used to smile at her. The way he made her feel like a burden for just wanting to be seen. Like she was always too much, or not enough.

She’d been holding it in for weeks. But now, in Drew’s arms, it crashed out of her in waves.

“I loved him,” she whispered, her voice so small it almost didn’t carry. “I loved him so much I stopped recognizing myself. I changed everything for him. Moved here. Stopped seeing my family as much to spend time with his. I gave him everything I had, Drew.”

He pulled back slightly to look at her, his blue eyes stormy and soft all at once.

“And he gave his attention to someone else,” he said grimly. “I saw it. Tonight. Clear as bloody day.”

“I don’t think he even knows me anymore,” Y/N choked out, shaking her head. “And the worst part? I still love him. Even after all of this.”

Drew exhaled hard through his nose, jaw tightening. He reached out and gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering against her cheek.

“Of course you do. Love like that doesn’t just vanish overnight. But love’s supposed to build you up, not gut you like this.” His voice softened, thick with emotion. “You’re one of the strongest women I know, but even the strongest need someone who’ll fight for them — not make them feel invisible.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes glossy and full of guilt and heartbreak. “I don’t know how to be okay without him,” she confessed.

Drew stepped closer, his forehead gently pressing to hers. “You don’t need to be okay tonight,” he whispered. “Tonight you just need to breathe. I’ll be here. Every step of the way. And I swear on my mother’s life, I’ll never let anyone make you feel this way again.”

Her breath caught in her throat. The way he said it — so certain, so sincere — made something break wide open inside her. But this time, it wasn’t pain. It was relief.

She nodded, closing her eyes against his. They stood there for a long, quiet moment as the sky darkened above them.

Eventually, Jessica gently cleared her throat.

“We should go,” she said softly, eyes damp with her own emotion.

Y/N stepped away from Drew, just enough to meet his eyes again. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You don’t need to thank me for giving a damn about you, lass,” he said, brushing his thumb across her cheek with a tenderness that made her want to cry all over again. “That’s what love’s supposed to look like. Even if it’s just from a friend.”

She didn’t reply — just gave him the faintest, most broken smile. Then she turned toward the car.

As they pulled out of the driveway, she looked back once — at the house where she once believed forever lived. Her heart ached violently in her chest. Not because she hated him. But because she didn’t.

Because despite everything, she still loved him.

But she couldn’t keep living like she was less than what she gave.

So she turned her gaze forward, to the road ahead — and drove away.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Cody fumbled with the front door key, still rattled from Drew’s outburst earlier that night.

The confrontation had hit something deep. He couldn’t shake the anger in Drew’s voice, or the words “You don’t deserve someone like her.”

Cody had replayed it in his head the whole drive home, trying to convince himself Drew was being overdramatic, or misinformed, or both. He was going to talk to Y/N — figure out what the hell was going on between them. He still didn’t fully get why she’d looked at him like that backstage. Like she didn’t recognize him. Like she hated him.

The lock clicked open and he stepped inside.

The silence was immediate. Too immediate.

No soft music playing from the kitchen speaker. No lights left on. No smell of her favorite lavender candle she always lit after a show.

He stepped deeper in, his boots heavy against the hardwood.

Then it hit him.

The coat rack by the door — empty.

The shelf by the stairs where she kept her keys and lanyards — bare.

His heart dropped.

He moved fast now, heading toward the living room, the hallway, the bedroom. Every room was the same — clean, untouched… and hollow.

Her stuff was gone.

All of it.

The dresser drawers she used. Empty. Her makeup bag on the bathroom counter? Gone. The framed photo of the two of them at Mania, the one where he was lifting her up, both grinning like fools? Removed. A faint square of dust where the frame had been.

It was like she had never lived there.

Cody stood frozen in the middle of the bedroom, throat tightening, pulse starting to race. “Y/N?” he called out instinctively, even though he already knew.

She was gone.

No note. No message.

Just... gone.

His heart thudded in his chest like a warning siren. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He sat down on the bed — their bed — and buried his face in his hands.

And that’s when it hit him. Everything. Every moment he’d dismissed. Every time he told her it was “nothing.” Every time he told himself she was being insecure when she was just trying to be seen.

The flirtatious messages. The way he smiled when Madeline got his jokes. The way he let her linger too close, too long. And worst of all — the way he’d looked at her backstage tonight, like she was the only person in the room.

He hadn’t cheated, right?

Had he given another woman parts of himself that Y/N had been starving to reach?

Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t realize what he had done to push away the love of his life. And now… she was gone.

He stood up in a daze and grabbed his phone, texting her.

CODY: Y/N. Where are you? Can we talk? Please.

No response.

He texted Jess. Nothing.

He tried again. Called her. Voicemail.

Then he started texting everyone. Joseph. Kevin. Pamela. Jonathan. Trinity. Paul. Anyone who might’ve known where she went.

Nobody knew.

Only one clue stood out — Jess hadn’t even opened his message. And she always opened her messages.

So he figured it out.

She was with Jess.

And there was only one place talent was staying in Atlanta tonight.

He remembered exactly which hotel it was, Y/N pretty much having to beg the higher ups to allow them to book with this hotel. It was closer to the arena than the other one they had wanted to stay with.

That was always Y/N’s thing, fighting for the benefit of others even when it had nothing to do with her.

Cody rushed through the lobby the minute he got there, barely acknowledging the concierge as he made his way to the elevators. He knew the floor. Knew how Jess told Y/N the exact room she’d be staying in when she booked the room. And he’d remembered meeting her in this exact hallway at the beginning of their relationship.

The night he first kissed her actually.

When he reached the door, his hand hovered.

He hesitated — just for a second.

Then he knocked.

It opened a beat later. Jessica stood there, arms folded, expression hard as stone. “Why are you here?” she asked coldly.

“I need to see her,” Cody said. His voice cracked. “Please. Just… just for a minute.”

Jessica narrowed her eyes. “You’ve had years of minutes, Cody. And you wasted them.”

“I just—” His voice faltered. “I didn’t know. I didn’t realize she was hurting like that.”

“That’s the problem,” Jess snapped. “You didn’t notice. You never noticed.”

Cody’s mouth opened to respond when a familiar voice interrupted.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Drew stepped into view from deeper in the room, his posture tense, shoulders squared like a wall of fury barely contained.

Cody’s chest tightened. “I just wanna talk to her.”

“She doesn’t owe you anything,” Andrew growled. “Especially not after what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Cody shouted back.

“Aye, but that’s the bloody point, isn’t it?” Drew snapped. “You didn’t do anything. You let her wither away while you smiled at another lass like she was the center of your world.”

Jessica put a hand on Drew’s arm, trying to keep him steady, but it was Y/N’s voice that cut through the tension.

“It’s okay.”

Everyone turned.

Y/N stood behind them, quiet in the doorway of the room. She wore a soft hoodie and shorts, bare feet tucked slightly together, arms wrapped around her middle like she needed to hold herself together.

She looked so small. So tired. And so heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Jess. Drew. It’s okay. I’ve got it,” she said quietly, eyes lingering on Drew with a look of silent gratitude.

They stepped aside.

And Y/N stepped out into the hallway. She closed the door quietly behind her before turning to face him. She looks like someone who has spent every ounce of strength holding it together — and she’s still doing it, even now.

Cody can barely breathe as he looks at her.

"You’re really gone," he says again, quieter this time. Like maybe if he says it softly enough, it won’t be real.

She nods, her eyes glassy but dry. “Yeah.”

“I—I came home and it was like you’d vanished. Not a note. Not even a—” He stops himself, a shaky breath catching in his throat. “Why didn’t you leave me something?”

She gives a broken smile. “Because I knew if I wrote anything down, I’d stay. And I can’t keep staying in a house where I don’t recognize the person I built it with.”

His face falls. “Y/N, please… just yell at me. Be mad. Hate me, even. I deserve it. But please don’t do this. Just come back home.”

“I can’t come home, Cody.” She shakes her head slowly, lips trembling. “But I’m not angry at you.”

"Then what are you?" he asks, voice nearly cracking.

“I’m heartbroken,” she breathes. “But not angry. Because how can I be mad at you for giving yourself to someone else… when I’m the one who just watched you slip away piece by piece?”

Cody’s eyes shut tight. “Don’t say that.”

“I begged you,” she continues, voice rising just a bit, raw around the edges. “I begged you without ever saying a word. I touched your hand and waited for you to hold it back. I looked at you and waited for you to see me. But your eyes always drifted somewhere else. To someone else.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Cody says quickly, almost defensive. “I didn’t touch her. I never crossed that line.”

Y/N’s smile this time is heartbreaking. “There are worse things than touching, Cody.”

Silence.

“You used to look at me like I was your home,” she whispers. “Now everyone just sees distance in your eyes when you look my way — and that’s if you look at all.”

He swallows hard. “I never meant for it to get like this.”

“But it did,” she says, her voice cracking. “You stopped choosing me. And I stayed. I stayed and twisted myself into someone quieter, someone easier to love. I gave you every piece of me I had left.”

“I was stressed,” Cody mutters, stepping forward. “Between the title runs, the travel—”

“No,” she cuts him off. “Don’t you dare blame this on your schedule. I was there. Always. I didn’t need grand gestures. I needed you to talk to me. To look at me the way you looked at her tonight.”

He flinches. “That wasn’t—”

“She leaned in so close,” Y/N whispers, more to herself now. “And you let her. You didn’t stop her. You didn’t flinch. You smiled.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

“But you did,” she says, her voice sharp now. “You hurt me every time you brushed me off. Every time I said ‘I love you’ and you kissed me like it was just… Like it was part of the routine, not something you felt.”

Cody is crying now. He wipes his face roughly.

“I still love you.”

She looks at him, wounded, gentle. “I don’t think you even know what that means anymore.”

“Don’t say that,” he begs.

“You want me to be mad?” she says, stepping closer, her voice dropping. “You want me to scream? Shatter something? I can’t. Because I’m not angry that you loved someone else. I’m devastated that you stopped loving me… and I didn’t even notice when it happened. That’s how slowly you left.”

He drops his head, sobs shaking his shoulders.

She exhales shakily, reaching up to wipe a tear of her own. “You kept looking for someone who understood your world. And I did, Cody. I thrived in this business. I lived it. I still do — just not in the way you do anymore. And when I tried to talk to you about it, you made me feel like I was just some ghost story. Like the time, the toll my body took meant nothing just because I can’t do it anymore.”

“I never wanted you to feel like that—”

“But you didn’t stop it, either,” she says. “You didn’t stop anything.”

There’s a long, weighted silence.

Finally, she whispers, “I would’ve done anything to make you happy. But you never paid close enough attention to see that I was trying.”

Cody’s voice is barely a rasp. “I didn’t know I was losing you.”

Her lip quivers. “You didn’t even know you had me.”

That’s what finally breaks him.

He steps back, one hand clutching his chest like he’s trying to hold in the ache. “Please… please don’t go.”

“I already did,” she says softly. “And it came down to this for you to finally notice.”

She looks at him one last time — really looks at him. And then she turns. “Goodbye Cody.”

Then she walks back inside. The door closes behind her. And Cody stands in the hallway, alone with every word he never said.

The door clicks shut with a soft click as she re-enters Jessica’s room. The silence that greets her is thick, humming low in the aftermath of everything that was said in the hallway.

Jessica’s nowhere to be seen — the muffled sound of running water from the bathroom the only sign she’s still here.

But Andrew is there.

Sitting in the corner chair near the window, elbows on his knees, fingers loosely laced, waiting like he promised he would.

He looks up as she enters, and when he sees her — red-eyed, fragile, shaken — his entire frame softens.

“Hey,” he says, low and warm. “You okay?”

It’s such a simple question.

But it’s asked with such honesty that Y/N has to pause before answering. Her throat tightens.

“No,” she admits quietly. “But I think… I’m breathing again.”

Drew gives a small nod, like he understands more than he lets on. He stands slowly, not rushing her, not pushing. Just being there.

She doesn’t move at first. She’s still holding onto the tension from her conversation with Cody — the ghost of what once was pressing against her chest.

Drew takes a small step forward. “C’mere.”

Y/N doesn’t even hesitate.

She walks straight into his arms.

And he catches her like he’s done it a hundred times before. His embrace is firm but gentle — arms around her back, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head as she presses her face into his chest. The scent of him is familiar now: crisp cologne and warmth. The kind of safety you don’t realize you’ve been craving until it’s wrapped around you.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice small. “For all of this. For dragging you into it.”

“You didn’t drag me,” Drew murmurs into her hair. “I walked. Gladly.”

Y/N lets her eyes close. His heartbeat is steady against her cheek.

She’s quiet for a long beat before her voice finds her again. “He said he didn’t know he was losing me.”

Drew pulls back just enough to look at her. His hand stays gently on her jaw, thumb brushing just beneath her eye, catching the tear that slips free despite her efforts.

“He lost you the second he stopped making you feel chosen,” he says softly. “And anyone who can look at you and not know what they’ve got in front of them… doesn’t deserve to hold onto you.”

Her breath shudders, “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is,” Drew says. “People are the ones that complicate it.”

Their eyes lock. And something in the air shifts. Just enough to be felt. His hand is still on her face. She doesn’t pull away. Neither of them do.

Y/N blinks slowly. “Why do you always know what to say?”

“I don’t always know what to say,” he says simply. “I just know you.”

That lands harder than she expects. She exhales a laugh that’s more of a sigh — sad but grateful. Her hands are still on his chest, fingers curled slightly into his shirt like she’s afraid to let go too quickly.

“Stay?” she asks softly. “Just… sit with me for a bit?”

Drew smiles. “Aye. As long as you want.”

He leads her to the bed, sitting beside her — not touching now, just near. Close enough that she could lean on him if she wanted. Close enough to feel his presence anchoring her.

And for the first time in days, maybe weeks, Y/N doesn’t feel quite so alone.

Outside the window, the city hums.

Inside, she breathes.

And Drew stays — a steady presence beside her, saying nothing more.

But somehow saying everything.

[noxtivagus]

Anxiety

[jin0]

Birdie advice!

First times are gonna be awkward but honestly SO fun if you have the right partner! My boyfriend(now husband!) was the first time I ever did anal and it was spur of the moment and I had intense anxiety about it leading up to it but my husband literally made me feel so comfortable and it’s still probably one of the sexiest, most intimate moments ever that I still get high off of when I think about it too much 🥵🫠. Anyways, at any age, new sexual experiences will be awkward just find a person you trust and keep communicating and I promise it’ll be a BLAST.

- Birdie🖤

first of all, you're awesome for this cause i always feel so out of the loop in a way for never experiencing anything at the same age as everyone else yk ?? but i know i'm not alone and beyond that i always feel stupid for looking for someone who won't hesitate to do anything to make me feel comfortable yk ?? i know i won't be the best and maybe he won't be either but i know that it's normal now.

my big fear now is the pain ?? because pain is one of my biggest fears (if not my biggest) and i know i will not be surviving if it hurts like a lot. my friends told me it was extremely painful and bloody and it did scare me so yeah, just trying to get through that and hoping that the universe drops a boyfriend in my life 😔