Disclaimer: Juno, Mark, and Bleeker are property of Diablo Cody, Jason Reitman, Fox Searchlight Pictures, Mandate Pictures, and Dancing Elk Productions. I receive no compensation from this work of fiction and intend no copyright infringement.

Author's Notes: Written for LJ's Porn Battle 8; prompt was 'guitars'.

~*~

The thing is, okay, yeah, so she thinks about Mark. Occasionally. It's not like she's obsessed with him or anything. It's just that, maybe, she kinda...wonders. She's not exactly experienced, despite what current circumstances lead most people to believe. Her fingers are short and stubby, Bleeker's long and nimble, but Mark's are...manly. That's mostly what she thinks. They're a man's hands. And damn him and that guitar of his anyway, because if she had never seen him strum the strings like he was caressing a lover, she would never have noticed something stupid like his fingers in the first place. But he probably has calluses from years of playing, and that intrigues her. She drags her own fingers across her clit, slides them inside herself, but even two and three don't seem enough to imagine what Mark would feel like touching her.

God, this is such a bad idea. But if she squeezes her eyes shut tight enough, she can pretend that he's hovering over her, body large and strong with none of Bleeker's hesitance.

He and Vanessa have been trying to have a baby. That probably means ia lot/i of sex. The guy's gotta have stamina.

Juno grunts and twists her fingers, scissors them apart to simulate some sort of girth, but it's still just not enough. Sighing, she slips into her old standby fantasy; Bleeker, sneaking into the showers after gym class. It's silly but it's easy, and she's rubbed out plenty thinking of the way his mouth would form a perfect 'O' when he sank into her. Her body shudders as she climaxes. Nothing earth-shattering, just the satisfaction of release. It quenches the strain of her body, but not of her wayward mind, because she's still left wondering.

Juno pats her rapidly-expanding stomach, then notices that her finger are still coated with her own juices. She makes a face.

"God, you are gonna be so screwed-up," she tells the little person inside of her. The kid kicks as if in agreement.