My Supernatural Oneshots (Multi chapter stories are found outside of this book)

A Man From the Street (Michael x Reader)

Request: Can you do one where Michael just got out of the cage and the angels won't take him back in heaven, so he's injured and takes shelter in an abandoned building where the reader finds him and takes care of him thinking he's just some homeless guy? :3

Reader Gender: Any

Pairing: Michael x Reader

Word Count: 2,300

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Fic:

"Excuse me, sir, are you alright?" you ask the man who's huddled on the ground beneath the awning of an abandoned building that had once been a flower shop.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you," he responds quietly, avoiding your gaze. He clearly wasn't alright. His dark hair was disheveled, his clothes tattered, and he probably hadn't bathed or eaten in a while, but the most striking thing about him was his green eyes and the fear that pooled there. His gaze shifted from place to place as if someone, or something, was after him and he was terrified that they might find him.

"Have you eaten anything lately?" you ask gently.

"No," he responds.

"What's your name?" you ask.

"Michael," he says reluctantly.

"Nice to meet you Michael, I'm Y/N. Come with me," you tell him, "I'll buy you some food." He seems hesitant, but when you hold out your hand to him he accepts. Michael stands and his stance makes you think that his whole body aches. You decide to take him to the nearest sandwich shop and tell him to order anything he wants.

"I'm sorry," the cashier says to Michael, "We can't serve you."

"Why the Hell not?" you ask angrily.

"Have you seen the state of him?" the cashier asks.

"So, what, you're serving people based on how they look despite the fact that they're willing to give you money?" you retort.

"Well, it's not his money, it's yours," the cashier says.

"Precisely," you say back, "And since it's my money I can spend it how I choose. In case you were wondering, I will not be choosing to spend it here." You turn to Michael and give him an apologetic look before leading him from the shop.

You take him to several other shops, all with similar responses. Finally, you make up your mind. Taking home strange men wasn't something you did, ever, but something about Michael made you trust him.

"Why are you helping me?" Michael asks.

"I don't know, you seemed like you could use some," you respond shrugging your shoulders. You pull out the key to your front door and push them into the lock before turning it.

"You don't have to you know," he tells you.

"I know," you say with a gentle smile, "But I want to." You pull on the handle of the door and tug it open. "I'm going to warn you, this place is a mess," you tell him.

A small smile crosses his lips, the first real sign of emotion he'd shown since you'd met him. "It can't be any worse than where I've been living," Michael says. You step inside and gesture him in. He bursts out laughing. "You weren't lying, this place is a mess!" he exclaims.

"Well, I did warn you," you respond, laughing with him. You try to straighten some things as you give him the tour of the house. When you're done you turn to him. "Would you like to take a shower?" you ask, "I have some extra towels you could use."

"That would be greatly appreciated," he responds. You lead him back to the bathroom and pull an extra towel and washcloth from the closet along with a fresh bar of soap and a razor your ex had left behind.