multifandom oneshots/preferences

xlix. shoe store--jim root (slipknot)

a/n: excuse the self indulgence on this one, please

also i used fem pronouns for this one, let me know if yall want me to change it to neutral ones :)

2000s era for context

It's been a slow day, but that's to be expected. No one hangs out in a mall on a Wednesday, except people without jobs, people with jobs in the mall that are on break or waiting for their shifts to start, and douchebags (who tend to fall under one of the aforementioned categories anyway). 

This means that a good amount of your 6 hour shift is spent doing random odd jobs around your shoe store or hanging out around the counter with your coworkers. 

You're talking with the two other coworkers on the clock when a pair of very big dudes walk in. Your coworkers elect you to go up and greet them, so you approach them with a "Hi, welcome in! Are you guys looking for anything specific?"

The two guys are the beginning of a small rush of customers, so by the time you've started helping out a different person, all 3 employees in the store have their hands full. 

The two guys flag you down after a few minutes of looking around the store.

"Do you need a size or something?" you offer as you walk up to them. 

"Uh, yeah, but we've also got a few questions," the taller of the two speaks up. "Can I get an 11.5 in this one?" He holds up the shoe right next to him. You glance up the column of that shoe's sizes and notice that the 11.5 he's looking for is eye level with him. And eye level for him is high up enough for you to need to get on your toes to comfortably grab the box. 

While the tall man waits for you on one side (blocking your way to the counter and out of the men's section), the other dude waits behind you, blocking your other exit. 

So now you're trapped in the corner shelves between two men, and you have that realization as you reach up. You're terrified that one of the men will grab you, but you obtain the shoe box without anything happening. 

Not to deal with the other one. 

"Hey, baby, can I get a 12 in these," the second (and slightly shorter but pudgier) man motions to a pair of black wingtips. "And a 12 in these." He points at a brown pair of formal loafers next to the wingtips. 

As you reach up again, the man stays uncomfortably close to you, making you very sure he's about to grab you. 

"Hey, back off her, man. That's my girlfriend," an unfamiliar tenor voice sounds from next to where your harasser is standing. 

"Oh, be for real," your harasser scoffs, turning his body so you can see yet another tall man with long brown hair, a bit of scruff, and an Iron Maiden shirt. It's a lesser evil, if anything.

"Hey, hun," you smile, going along with him. "It's good to see you." You pull down the boxes before approaching him and taking a few steps away while his hand gently rests on the small of your back. 

"Thank you," you whisper. 

"Of course. Do you deal with creeps like that a lot?" he removes his hand from your back.

"They don't often come into the store. Usually they sit outside the store and stare at me and my coworkers," you shrug, wandering over to another group of people and asking if they were alright. They dismissively say they are, so you crouch down to turn your focus to an unorganized shelf of boxes underneath a display. You wonder why you feel a looming presence until you look up to see your ally from before still standing there.