Pick a fictional couple from a book, TV show or movie and write your own story for them.

I'm going to pick a few and write mini fics for them because I have too many I love! I have NEVER written fan fiction before so please bear with me.

Iris shot straight up in their massive honeymoon suite bed. Mistake. She had the worst headache she's had since college. Way too much sangria last night. Barry tried to warn her but it was the first night of their vacation, she wanted to celebrate!

"Babe?" She called out, wincing. She couldn't get up without a giant cup of coffee and 3 pain killers already in her hands.

At that exact moment of her utter helplessness, her new husband bursts in the door, holding a to-go box and a coffee carrier, with multiple iced drinks. He snorted at her, as soon as he saw her expression.

"How's the new Mrs. West-Allen doing this morning?" He asked, smiling. 

She gestured towards the coffee, "Gimme." He handed it over, as well as the pain killers. She knew there was a reason why she married him.

"So I'm guessing we're NOT scuba diving with the group today?" He asked, climbing into bed and scooting next to her. She wrapped an arm weakly around his neck. "That one old couple is like obsessed with us."

"I have a Groddamn headache and I have no idea where my clothes are, what do you think?" She grumbled as she sipped her iced drink.

He smirked, mischievously. "I have alternate plans in mind that don't require clothes." He started unbuttoning his red, Hawaiian print shirt.

"Oh word?" That was the last time they talked for awhile.

Julia fretted constantly, sick with worry and dread. She had a feeling that goodbye to Richard was the last time she'd ever see him. Even Tommy was starting to notice. He came up and held her hand today while she was getting dinner ready with Emma.

"Yes, Tommy?" She asked, quietly. 

He shrugged. "You just seem sad." Julia and Emma glanced at each other, but didn't say anything. 

Two weeks went by and Julia was beginning to accept that something bad had happened and Richard wasn't coming home to them. Emma and her father had been discreetly calling around Atlantic City trying to get any news on him. They thought she didn't notice but she did. The silence was deafening.

Another week went by, the little family was sitting on the porch, entertained by Tommy's hide and seek game with the neighbor's daughter. Julia heard him crying his sleep the night before. When she went to go check on him, she saw that he was clutching a picture of himself, Julia and Richard. She could barely keep herself together. 

She decided a Saturday of outdoor fun was in order for all of them. At least it would take their minds off of worrying for a few hours.

 Julia rocked slowly in her chair, scanning the open field in front of them trying to spot Tommy or the neighbor girl when she saw him.

"Emma..." Her father and Richard's sister paused their conversation as she shot up and started running as fast as her legs could take her. He was here. He was home.

The water tickled Coulson's toes as he moved deeper into the ocean. The clear, blueness of the sea would never cease to amaze him. He found himself appreciating the little things more and more, as the end neared.

He looked over at Melinda, who had her arms crossed as a scrawny bartender tried to make her piña colada strong enough for her to drink. He found her irritation with the Tiki Hut's weak cocktails utterly adorable. 

He looked back out over the ocean, spotting their surfing instructor in the distance. He had never been surfing before and felt like there's no better time than now to do it.

The water shifted around him. Melinda appeared next to him.

"Done traumatizing the bartenders?" He asked, smiling.

"There should be a certification process for becoming a bartender. If you can't wrap your head around a basic 2 parts to 1 ratio, then you shouldn't be making my drinks," Melinda grumbled then winked. 

"Bonehead is heading our way, you're still up for this?" He waved to their incoming surf instructor.

Melinda casually grabbed his hand, sending a thrill through his damaged heart. He'll never get used to that.

"Please stop calling him Bonehead."

"That's his preferred name!"

"He's 19 and had been high since he turned 18, he doesn't know what his name is."

"Perhaps the marijuana inspired him!"

The two continued bickering back and forth, while the Tahitian sun beat down on them. It truly was a magical place.