Author's Note: Yes, I have decided to write a Quill fanfic. I absolutely adore this ship, and there are just not enough stories about them. Comments and reviews are amazing! Reviews are like crack to me. Seriously, let me know what you think.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the characters affiliated with Glee. If I did, the storylines would be a lot different.
Summary
A pedophile is generally a man in his mid to late thirties, with a strong attraction to pigtails, skinned knees, and the innocence underage girls possessed. Will Schuester was by no means a pedophile. From the time he turned thirty he had never found himself physically attracted to anyone under the age of twenty-five, and had never thought of young girls as sexually arousing. Yet for some unfathomable reason, he seemed to be drawn to one of his students; much like a moth to a flame. He had convinced himself that the curve of her stomach, the swell of her enlarged breasts, and her mature perspective on the world was what had him entranced. After his wife's betrayal, he was drawn to the beautiful changes her body was going through, drawn to the young woman carrying a child that at one point in time was going to be his. However, his desires were no longer so simple to explain. There was no more rounded stomach, no more mothering sparkle in her eye; all that was left was a young girl, eyes filled with regret, attempting to piece back together a life she wasn't even sure she really wanted. At first he had reasoned with himself that his intentions were strictly paternal, considering her own father had abandoned her. Although he was pretty sure that when a father hugged their child, his inner thighs didn't throb painfully, eager to have her pressed closer. Well, at least they weren't supposed to. So, instead of trying to find some logical reason for his urges, he merely shoved aside the thoughts he could only deem as impure. It had been going rather well, Will managing to keep his sexual attraction to Quinn Fabray in control, only allowing his mind to roam when he was in the confines of his bedroom. With each passing day, every smooth swing of her hips in rehearsals, and each time her sad eyes connected with his, he found his resolve weakening. He wanted nothing more than to hold the broken girl in his arms, brush away her tears with his fingertips, and kiss her until the sadness in her eyes disappeared.