Seventeen imagines

The Boyfriend Everyone Wants

Y/N had always admired Hong Joshua from a distance. He was the picture of perfection—kind, charming, and impossibly thoughtful. Every girl in the world seemed to swoon over him, and who could blame them? He had everything. The looks, the charisma, and an effortless ability to make anyone feel like the most important person in the world.

It all started when they met at a mutual friend's gathering. Joshua had been gentle with her, offering sweet compliments that made her heart flutter, and before long, he was texting her every day. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, and there was an undeniable chemistry between them. He seemed to be everything she had ever dreamed of.

Then, one day, he showed up at her door with a bouquet of flowers, a large shopping bag in hand. She raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"I got you something," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "I thought you might like it."

She opened the bag to find a stunning, silk dress, the perfect shade of blue that matched her eyes. Joshua's smile was radiant as he watched her reaction, waiting eagerly for her approval.

"It's beautiful, Joshua," Y/N said, her heart skipping a beat. "But you didn't have to..."

"Of course I did," he interrupted gently. "You're special to me. You deserve to have the best."

Y/N couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed. She wasn't used to such attention, but it felt nice. It felt right. His generosity was endless. It was as if he could see inside her heart and knew exactly what would make her smile.

From that day on, it wasn't just flowers or dresses. It was everything. Joshua brought her gifts every time they saw each other—chocolates, her favorite coffee, rare books, designer shoes, and clothes that made her feel like she was living in a dream. Each time, he would insist that it was nothing, that she deserved it all and more.

The attention was intoxicating. Joshua made her feel like she was the center of his universe, like nothing else mattered. His eyes sparkled when he talked to her, his touch always gentle but possessive, as if he were trying to show her that she was his and his alone.

Y/N would never ask for anything. She didn't need to. Joshua knew what she liked. He knew her better than anyone else. And he showered her with everything she could ever want, from the smallest trinkets to the most extravagant gestures.

One evening, as she sat on the couch, Joshua entered the room carrying yet another gift. This time, it was a rare vintage teddy bear, the kind she had mentioned wanting during one of their late-night talks. Her heart skipped as she took it from his hands.

"Joshua... this is too much," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with awe.

"No, it's perfect. You deserve it." He grinned, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I want to give you everything, Y/N. You make me so happy."

She smiled, her chest tightening with warmth. How could she not be happy with him? With Joshua, every day was a gift. He had become everything she had ever wanted—no, more than that. He was the perfect man, and she was the luckiest girl in the world.

But something shifted. Slowly, ever so gradually, Y/N began to feel the weight of the gifts. The more Joshua gave, the more she felt as though she was becoming something to be collected, something to be owned.

She'd wake up to find more packages by her door, more messages saying "I thought of you today, here's a little something," each one more extravagant than the last. But she began to notice something strange. She couldn't leave her apartment without him being there, offering to drive her anywhere she needed to go. He always wanted to be with her, to know where she was, who she was with, and what she was doing.

One evening, when Y/N casually mentioned she was meeting a friend for dinner, Joshua's smile faded, and his voice dropped with a hint of something darker.

"Why don't I just come with you? We could make it a night out," he suggested, his tone light but there was something off about it. She agreed, though reluctantly, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that had started to settle in her chest.

It wasn't until that night, when she awoke to find herself in an unfamiliar, dimly lit room, that the full horror of the situation dawned on her.

The walls were bare, the air thick with the musty scent of dampness, and there was a single fluorescent light flickering overhead. Her wrists were bound tightly to a metal pipe, the ropes biting into her skin as she struggled to move. Panic surged through her chest, and her mind raced, trying to understand what had happened.

Joshua.

The man who had been her perfect boyfriend, the one who had bought her everything she could dream of, the one who had promised her the world—he had taken her here, to this place. To his place.

She looked around the small, windowless room. It was cold. There were no windows, no doors—just walls. And scattered around the room were the remnants of everything Joshua had given her: plush toys, books, clothes. It was as if he had prepared this space specifically for her, as if he had decided that everything she could ever need was here, in this basement.

A door creaked open upstairs, and she heard Joshua's familiar footsteps descending toward her. Her heart skipped, her breath shallow. She couldn't believe this was happening.

He entered the basement with that same soft smile, holding a tray of food. It was her favorite: grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and fresh fruit. The same meal she had asked for one night, months ago.

"I brought you something," he said, placing the tray on the floor in front of her, his eyes sparkling as if he had done something special. "I know you like this, and I want to make sure you're comfortable."

Y/N's stomach twisted. This wasn't right. None of this was right.

"Joshua," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Why am I here? What's going on? I didn't ask for this..."

His smile never wavered. He crouched down in front of her, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, his touch soft but possessive.

"You don't have to ask for anything, Y/N," he said, his voice full of affection. "I know what you need. I've always known. Everything I do is for you. I'm giving you everything you could ever want."

The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Joshua wasn't giving her what she wanted. He was taking everything from her. Her life. Her freedom.

All of this—the toys, the clothes, the food, the gifts—had never been about love. It had been about control.

Joshua had everything. And now, so did she—everything except her freedom.