Richie wasn't really the soft kinda guy. He had a habit of cussing too much, smoking too much, and being all up in everyone's faces whenever he got angry. He was soft with Eva, but - come on, man. That was his baby girl. Of course, he was gonna be soft. What's he look like, a monster?

Well. There was one other person he was soft for, but you didn't count! You were too damn pretty and soft and perfect and... well. You get the gist. He loved you, and he couldn't help but soften around you. He'd kick anyone's ass for saying as much, though.

You were his sunshine, his life, his light. You had him wrapped around your little finger, and he damn well knew it, but that didn't mean he had to say it out loud.

He'd had a long day at The Bear the day before. He'd come home in a foul mood. But that night, you'd cuddled him all night. Today was his day off, and he walked out of the bedroom to a spread of his favorite breakfast all laid out.

Eggs, bacon, toast, and a stack of pancakes, fluffy and golden brown. But the real kicker was the way you looked - all soft and sleepy with your mug of coffee. "Well, look at you, baby..." He wrapped his arms around your middle. "Did all this for me, and it's not even my birthday." He murmured.