The next day Clint woke up to a warm body on top of his, light snoring in his ear, and hair in his mouth.

"Blegh," he grunts, spitting out the dark locks.

Sloan, the warm body on top of him, stirs and buries her face in his neck. He smiles to himself briefly, before it morphs into a startled gasp as she started to suck on his neck. Clint was so surprised and confused that he didn't even have time to admit to himself that he enjoyed it.

He didn't know if it was for comfort or sexual pleasure, but he had to know before he acted on his urges, or didn't act if that's what the situation allowed. Before Sloan, Clint had led a fairly sex-filled life with his partners. Upon her arrival, the sexual activities had halted, completely. Whether from the exhaustion of keeping up with her mood swings, or guilt for not being able to include her Clint didn't know. But he did know he hadn't gotten anything in nearly a month and Sloan suckling on the skin above his collarbone felt insanely good.

It wasn't bad for him to think of her in that way. Submissive/Dominant relationships are inherently sexual in nature. Sure they evolve into deeper relationships depending on the couple but the initial purpose is to preserve base sexual instincts to submit or dominate. Sloan was his submissive, whether she was big or little, and he expected some level of submission from her. But the submission didn't have to be sexual, it had never been sexual, especially since the incident about cartoons and dinner and blowjobs.

Not once had Sloan expressed any sexual interest in any of the men. Sure there had been accidental innuendos that left her blushing like a firetruck, or maybe a dirty joke here and there when she was in her big headspace with the team, but never once had she been sexual. Clint realized at that moment how much he missed having that aspect of submission in sex. When the three of the men were together, at least one of them had to fold and bottom for the night. But it was never true submission. What made it worse was that he knew Sloan was a good sub when she wanted to be. He'd seen her follow rules to the absolute T and fight against her learned responses to act respectfully towards him or Bucky or Steve.

Clint wanted to see that more. He wanted to see her begging him to cum and pleading him to be fucked out into a blissful subspace. He wanted to do everything he couldn't do with the men he usually slept with but also equally loved. He wondered if Sloan would ever get to that point, and if she did, Clint wondered if he'd be able to help her. She'd been through so much, and Clint didn't know if giving into his and her urges would be beneficial or harmful.

Clint gently ran his hand down Sloan's back, smiling to himself when a whimper arose from her throat. It wasn't a whimper that meant she was suffering from a sexual itch she couldn't scratch; it was more infantile like. So Clint assumed she was using his neck as a pseudo-pacifier. Which was fine, he hadn't honestly expected Sloan to come unto him when she'd never expressed interest before.

"Hey, wake up kiddo," he murmured, slowly sitting up to avoid disturbing the two men on either side of them.

The sucking on his neck lessens but doesn't stop, and she pushes against Clint, hoping to get him to lay back down.

"Nuh-uh kiddo, time to wake up," He chided, slowly maneuvering out of bed.

Sloan huffed against his neck, more or so awake, and stopped sucking all-together. Holding her so her feet were wrapped around his torso, with an arm supporting her butt, Clint carried Sloan into the kitchen to make something that vaguely resembled breakfast. He could go downstairs and grab something from the bigger kitchen, considering the kitchenette didn't really have a lot of food space to offer anyway, but he didn't want to risk scaring Sloan and exposing her secret to people she was just beginning to know.

To be fair, the team already knew. Sloan just didn't know they knew. When half of them had run up to the apartment months ago, it spread quickly among the rest who hadn't been present. No one judged her, hell, they all engaged in kinky shit behind closed doors, but they were surprised to be privy to it so soon. Even though her little space was sexual in nature, it was still an extreme privilege to see someone in such a vulnerable, intimate, place.

"Papa, too bright," Sloan whined, screwing her eyes shut.

Clint chuckled, because it was honestly too adorable not too, and slowly turned her away from the large window at the end of the hallway and ventured into the living room and kitchen area. Sloan had leaned her head on his shoulder by now and was observing quietly as he scrounged around in the kitchen for food. When there was none, she leaned her head against the side of his in concern at his deep and frustrated sigh.

He could put her back in bed with Steve and Bucky, but he got the feeling she wasn't going to let him go without a fight, so he began to prepare her for the journey downstairs.

"Hey kiddo, I think we're gonna have to go downstairs for some grub," Clint murmured in her ear, looking around for her sippy cup.

"M'kay," she mumbled, making grabby hands for the plastic cup once Clint put milk in it.

Clint looked at her, bewildered.

"You're okay with it?"

"Mhm. Big Sloan says they is nice, so is okay," she responds.

Clint was shocked, not just because that's the longest sentence Sloan has ever said in her headspace, but because Sloan said his fellow teammates were nice.

"How old are we today munchkin?" Clint asks, gently bouncing her as he walks towards the elevator.

"Dunno." She shrugged.

"How many fingers?" He asked, pressing the bottom floor button.

She holds up 3 and her pinkie.

"4?"

She shakes her head no.

"3…" he looks at her pinkie, "and a half?"

She nods and grins around the mouth of her sippy cup.

Clint briefly wondered if she was this clever when she actually was 3 and a half. Her file listed her as above average intelligence with an IQ well over 100, as well as several potential mental afflictions she could've developed under her father's thumb, but Clint didn't know when her intelligence really began to take root.

The elevator reached the last floor and Sloan was halfway done with her milk, clearly thirsty. Clint gently took the cup away so she wouldn't get a tummy ache and pressed a kiss to her forehead to soothe her. He bounced her gently as he walked through the large living space, not a person in sight, to the kitchen. He set Sloan on the island in the middle of the kitchen, hit the start button on the strangely already-filled coffee maker, and searched through the fridge for eggs.

Sloan babbled softly behind him, singing the Little Einstein's softly under her breath, kicking her feet up gently in front of her. Clint smiled to himself, enjoying the sound of her at peace, but then frowned when he remembered he had to deal with the situation last night. Clint worried that his fear of not wanting to punish Sloan too harshly had transformed into a complete lack of discipline. It was possible. It had happened before with Clint's subs. The solution was to resort to physical punishments but the thought of hitting Sloan in a negative way brought bile to the back of his mouth.

He shook his head softly and told himself he'd talk to his partners about it later while pulling a carton of eggs out of the fridge.

"EGG!" Sloan screeched happily, making Clint jump.

"Oopsies, sorry, Egg!" Sloan said again, significantly quieter.

Clint chuckled and pressed a kiss to Sloan's temple as he passed her, setting up the kitchen to make eggs and bacon. He got busy cracking eggs and frying bacon, looking behind him occasionally to check on his girl. Every time she shot him a 1000-watt, teeth and all, and then continued humming to herself softly. Everything went smoothly until Clint could sense someone else on the floor. He heard them before he saw them, but by the faint grumbling and cussing, he assumed it was Tony.

Sloan and Tony got along well enough when she wasn't in her headspace. She had a little built up resentment because of how he treated her when they first met, but their interactions since had been pleasant if not casually civil. Tony was a submissive through and through, just like Sloan, so Clint crossed his fingers and hope Tony would understand that Sloan was in a significantly younger headspace than usual.

Tony stumbled into the kitchen, mumbling a hello to Clint and Sloan as he made a beeline for the coffee maker. He pulled three cups out of the cabinet, laying them next to each other, and slowly began filling them. He took his coffee with 3 packets of sugar and 4 teaspoons of creamer while Clint took his black. Sloan drank coffee in whatever form it was given to her when she was big, but definitely should not be given coffee when she's little.

Tony tiredly set a mug next to Sloan and a mug next to Clint before leaning against the counter near Sloan. She hadn't set a word to Tony yet, unusual for her, and just watched his movements. Tony got halfway through his cup before he noticed this and sent Clint a weird look.

"She okay?" Tony asked, wincing when he realized he had addressed her Dom instead of her.

It was a normal occurrence in the world of Subs and Doms, but it was usually frowned upon among friends considering it can be belittling in certain situations. Clint, however, hadn't noticed and answered.

"She's in her headspace right now, ain't that right kiddo?" Clint tossed a look over his shoulder, smiling at his little girl who was too busy staring at Tony's coffee to smile back.

"Oh," Tony stated, picking up her coffee mug and moving it away.

Clint raised his eyebrows in surprise. He'd never seen Tony interact with children and even if Sloan wasn't technically a child, this behavior was new to Clint. Sloan reached for Tony's cup as he passed in front of her again, whining as she did so. Clint put the bacon on the plate to cool and overturned his bowl of eggs in the pan, hoping that Tony wouldn't do something dumb and scare Sloan. Clint trusts Tony with his life, but sometimes Tony can be impulsive.

"Ta!" Sloan said, tugging on Tony's sleeve.

Tony looks down at Sloan, eyebrows raised in question.

"Hol!" She chirped while making grabby hands.

Clint stopped cooking to turn and watch the scene unfolding behind him. Sloan was looking at Tony expectantly, arms outstretched, grabbing at him.

"She wants you to hold her," Clint said.

"Oh, um…alright," Tony looked lost.

Sloan whined impatiently before Tony broke out of his confused haze and lifted Sloan into his arms, her butt resting on his hip and her head resting on his shoulder. Clint was frozen. When Sloan was aged down around him and his partners in their apartment she was like this, but in public, Sloan was stiff as a board and absolutely refused to age down, even if Bucky or Steve or Clint told her it was perfectly okay. But here she was, cuddled up to Tony fucking Stark in one of the busiest rooms at the compound, completely calm. Tony was swaying lightly, probably not even aware of it, and hummed softly to Sloan who was playing with a hole on his shirt.

Clint turned back to the eggs to make sure they didn't burn and moved them to a plate nearby. At the smell of food, Sloan perked up but didn't ask Tony to put her down. Sloan was a clingy little thing. Most nights in the apartment, especially around dinner time, she was in the lap of one of the guys if not stretched across all of them. Even at dinner she would sit in the lap of Steve or Bucky and eat her food or if she really little, have one of them feed it to her. Once they all went to bed she'd pick one of the boys and latch onto him, usually not letting go until morning. Clingy as she was, however, she never lets someone else hold her.

Weeks ago, Sloan was downstairs with the team, working with Tony on a design and Peter stumbled in, fresh off the streets. Sloan had never met him and to be honest, didn't want to with the way he smelled, teenage boys are so sweaty, so she sidestepped his first attempt at a hello and went back to working with Tony. In Sloan's defense, usually, you shouldn't greet someone you've just met with a hug. Bucky was downstairs in the lab, waiting for Tony to finish whatever so he could get a check-up done on his arm and watched as Peter tried again to hug Sloan. This time though it was a bear hug that locked Sloan's arms at her sides and pressed his sweaty chest right into her back.

Needless to say, she was disgusted.

So Sloan did what any normal person would do in that situation, and punched him in the nose. Bucky was so amazed at her speed and technique that he didn't even remember to punish her. Although she came down an hour or two later and apologized.

After that, the team asked before they touched her, and though they didn't have any reason to touch her frequently, every time she would smile to herself and say yes. Apparently, though, boundaries were not little Sloan's forte and she clung to Tony even harder when he went to set her down so they could eat.

"NO!" She screeched, clutching onto him.

"Jeez alright bug I won't let you go," Tony mumbled to himself.

"Bug," She repeated.

Tony looked at her, not realizing he had let a nickname for her slip.

"I bug?" She pointed to herself.

Tony nodded slowly.

"Bug and Ta," Sloan said, more to herself than anyone else, and then smiled hugely.

Clint thought his heart was going to explode right then and there.

"Alright Bug and Ta, breakfast time,"