Random Oneshots

Imaginary Love (Frankie Foster x Male Imaginary Friend Reader)

The halls of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends buzzed with the usual chaos. Imaginary friends ran about, causing trouble, and the occasional crash echoed in the distance. But amidst all the ruckus, a familiar figure stood out—Y/n, Frankie Foster's best friend, long-time imaginary companion, and boyfriend.

Y/n leaned against the kitchen doorframe, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest, dressed in his signature black leather jacket. The jacket parted at his back, allowing for the pair of large, angelic wings to stretch and flex naturally, glowing softly even in the dim kitchen light. His tan skin seemed to shimmer, kissed by the sun despite rarely leaving the home. With his black hair and wings, Y/n was an unmistakable presence, a figure born from the imagination of a young Frankie back when she was just an elementary school student.

Frankie, now 22, bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up after the morning rush of breakfast dishes. She was still as fiery and determined as ever, though the years had softened her impatience. Y/n couldn't help but smile at how far they'd come since she'd first conjured him into existence—her protector and friend through thick and thin.

"Need a hand, Red?" Y/n called, his deep voice cutting through the noise.

Frankie glanced over her shoulder, and a smile tugged at her lips when she saw him. "If I say yes, will you actually help this time, or just stand there and look angelic?" she teased, her eyes flicking to his wings.

"Can't I do both?" he said, pushing off the doorframe. His wings folded back neatly as he strode over with the fluid grace of someone more than human. His speed, strength, and reflexes were all heightened, making him Frankie's ideal—someone who could take on the world by her side.

Y/n began stacking dishes beside Frankie, his presence so familiar that even his wings, once an odd sight to everyone else, had become a comforting backdrop for her. She glanced at them briefly, remembering the first time she'd ever imagined him—a knight-like protector with wings that could carry her away from her childhood troubles. Little did she know, as a child, that he'd become so much more.

"You know, I never expected you to be this helpful when I first thought you up," Frankie said, her voice light with affection.

"I aim to please," Y/n grinned, his hand brushing hers as they both reached for the same dish. His touch sent a familiar warmth through her, something that had grown even deeper since they'd started dating three years ago. He still remembered the exact moment—how they'd confessed their feelings on her 18th birthday, a quiet evening shared under the stars, with Y/n holding her close under the cover of his wings.

"Feels like just yesterday you turned 18, and now look at us," Y/n said, glancing at her with a small smile. "Three years together."

Frankie paused for a moment, a fond smile tugging at her lips. "Time really flies, huh? I mean, you've been with me for way longer than that, but... yeah. These past three years have been the best."

The memory of their transition from childhood friends to something more still played fresh in their minds. While Y/n had always been there for her—whether it was during school, after fights with her grandmother, or when she just needed someone who understood—becoming her boyfriend had been a new chapter, one they had both been more than ready to explore.

Y/n wrapped an arm around Frankie's waist, pulling her gently against him. His wings shifted slightly, adjusting to fold comfortably around them both. "You know, if younger-you could see us now, she'd probably faint," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

Frankie laughed, leaning into his chest. "Oh, she definitely would. But she'd also be really proud." Her eyes met his, and she reached up to brush her hand against his cheek. "I know I am."

Y/n's smile softened, and he bent down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting his chin on top of her head. "I've always been proud of you too, Frankie. You've grown into someone amazing. I'm just lucky I get to be by your side."

Her cheeks flushed at his words, and she laughed lightly. "How is it you're still better at this whole 'sappy' thing than me?"

"I was made to be perfect, remember?" Y/n teased, unfurling one of his wings to gently ruffle her hair.

Frankie swatted at his wing with a playful grin, but her eyes were warm. "Yeah, well, I guess I imagined you a little too well."

As the warmth of their moment settled between them, Y/n tilted her chin up, leaning down to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. Despite the number of times they'd shared kisses over the years, it still sent a shiver of excitement through Frankie, the world momentarily fading away. When Y/n kissed her, it felt like the troubles of the world—the stress of running the house, the chaos of the friends—didn't matter. It was just them, wrapped in the wings of someone who was always meant to protect her.

When they pulled back, Frankie was beaming, her eyes glistening with affection. "You know," she said softly, "for someone I made up in my head, you turned out pretty great."

Y/n chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "And for someone who made me up, you turned out perfect."

Before they could bask in their quiet moment any longer, a loud crash echoed down the hall, followed by an exasperated cry from Mr. Herriman. Frankie groaned, her head falling against Y/n's chest.

"Sounds like duty calls," she muttered.

Y/n laughed, planting a quick kiss on top of her head. "Guess so. But don't worry, I'll be with you. Always."

With his wings tucked in tight, Y/n followed Frankie toward the source of the commotion. No matter what trouble awaited them, they faced it together, side by side, just as they always had.

Imaginary or not, Y/n knew one thing for sure—his place was, and always would be, by Frankie's side.