Terrorforming || Yandere!Harem X F!Reader

In The Bag

After an uneventful lunch, you had more time for activities. Suddenly it was craft time. Your creative juices weren't flowing, so you spent some time just watching others work.

Dinah was weaving a flower crown out of fake white roses. Louise was knitting something out of pastel rainbow yarn while Chaeyoung looked on with eyes at half-mast. Elizabeth was doing rounds around the room, like the rest of the camp counselors.

Not long into activity time, Dinah stood up, walked behind you, and placed the completed flower crown atop your head. Surprised, you reached up to gingerly touch the edge of the garland.

"For me?" You asked. She petted your head once, as if you were a dog, and just looked at you with those big old eyes. "Thank you! I'll make you something too." She clicked her tongue and proceeded to start making rings out of chunky buttons and jewelry wire.

The question was what you should make. You wanted to make her something useful but also something you could finish in the allotted time.

After a few minutes of consideration, you decided on a bag. You didn't know if bags were allowed at Camp Bethel, but you didn't see any reason why they wouldn't be. It was just another addition to one's uniform.

First you had to choose a fabric. Out of the enormous bin of yarns and clothes, you picked up three heavy cotton scraps. You wanted the bag to be sturdy enough that Dinah could put weighty things like books in it.

As for colors and patterns, you decided on a plain dark brown for the strap, closure, and body as well as a pickle green gingham for the inner lining.

Next you needed a pattern. You found a simple satchel bag pattern in The Bag Making Bible. Was that blasphemous? You thought so, but it was at Camp Bethel so it couldn't be. So you measured and cut out the pieces according to instruction.

You had to guestimate how long the strap should be. Dinah was much smaller than the average person, after all.

Then you sewed all the right pieces together. It was easier said than done. You had to hem all the edges to keep the bag from looking like an absolute mess.

All the sewing had to be done by hand as well, as there was a long line for the sewing machine. A handbook called Original Stitches To Go instructed you on how to do something called a backstitch, the strongest stitch there was.

Your stitches somewhat varied in length, but they were still so small that it wouldn't be a problem so long as Dinah wasn't carrying around sand.

Finally you just had to assemble the bag. You attached the strap and the closure to the body of the bag with big, tortoiseshell buttons. They served as good decorations as well as functional pieces. The way they caught the light was gorgeous.

Several hours and many, many pinpricks later, you had a working satchel. After all that work, you were tempted to keep it for yourself. But that was just your greedy goblin brain talking. You made it with Dinah in mind, and you were going to give it to her as a gift.

"Dinah," you said in a sing-song. When she looked up from what she was crocheting, you gently tossed the bag into her lap.

She stopped what she was doing to give it a thorough inspection. Admittedly, it made you sweat a little. This clearly wasn't her first craft time. Would she find your handy work wanting?

After what seemed like ages, she slung the bag over her shoulder and started stuffing it with fake flowers, fuzzy yarns, and an entire tray of buttons. Nothing fell out.

She reached over and grabbed your left hand and roughly jammed a button ring on your ring finger... Her own unique way of showing her thanks. With a smile, you took your hand back and admired the ring. It was made with an ornate brass button and matching brass wire.

"Thank you," you reiterated. Satisfied, she returned to her crocheting. You hoped that wasn't for you as well. All that time spent making a bag really drained you.

You were contemplating clearing off an area and laying your head on the table when a new girl walked over to you with a wave and an enthusiastic, "Hi there!"

She was super pretty. She had long ebony locks styled into box braids. Her skin was a rich ombre. Her best feature had to be her eyes, though. They were the color of whiskey in sunlight. There were no little additions to her uniform. Could this be her first summer at Camp Bethel?

"Hi there," she repeated when you were too busy doing your best fish impression to reply. "I'm Poppy. What's your name?"

Get it together! Don't be weird! This could be your first chance to make a friend. "I'm Y/N. Can I help you?"

"I really hope you can," she sighed. "I saw you make a bag! I've been trying to do the same and failing miserably. I sewed the damn thing shut, if you can believe that."

"Poppy, language," one of the passing counselors warned her. It took some balls to swear at bible camp. You liked Poppy already.

"Sorry, sorry. Force of habit!" She said, although her smile didn't seem at all apologetic. Then she addressed you again. "Can you give me a hand, maybe some advice?"

"Sure!" You offered, cracking open The Bag Making Bible. "What kind of bag are you trying to make?"

...

You don't know how long you spent with Poppy. With your expertise, the two of you finished her bag in a fraction of the time it took to complete Dinah's. You spent the rest of the time just talking.

It turned out this was her first time at Camp Bethel too. She got sent to bible camp by her parents because they expected her to give them her paycheck once she scored a part-time job. She said no and they said pack your bags.

She didn't even get to keep her job! They fired her after hearing she would be unavailable all summer.

"I bet they're tearing my bedroom apart looking for my savings right about now." She sighed before giving you a slow grin. "Jokes on them, though! I got all my money saved in a private bank account. What did you do to earn your place here?"

"I stayed out late kissing boys," you lied with a half-shrug. "My mom used to be cool. She just suddenly freaked."

"Cheers to strict parents," she drawled sarcastically. "Speaking of cheers, want to sit with me at dinner? My camp counselor is a hard-ass, but the rest of the girls in my cabin are pretty chill."

"Language, Poppy! This is your second warning. Don't let there be a third," a passing counselor reprimanded. Poppy just rolled her eyes when no one but you was looking.

You couldn't quite stifle your giggle. "I'd love to!"

By the time the counselors were calling for everyone to start cleaning up, you were confident the two of you would be the best of friends this summer.

You and Poppy had just finished packing up your mini sewing kits and were putting away the scraps of cloth you didn't use when Dinah came up to tug on your sleeve.

"What's up?" You asked. She pointed to the Temperate girls with the scissors she was holding in her other hand. "Oh, that's okay. You guys go on without me. I'm going to sit with Charity tonight." She shook her head frantically, tried dragging you over to your bunkmates, but you stood firm. "Dinah, no. I'll see you after dinner, okay?"

It was not okay, but you didn't yet realize how not okay it was.