They/them pronouns for Tails, since that's what my Tails prefers 💙

“Whoops.”

A vibrant, purple blast encased me unexpectedly, fizzing through my whole body, holding me momentarily weightless—or maybe I was falling? The light cleared a moment later, and Tails’ workshop suddenly looked decidedly different. A lot bigger, for one. I stared up at my suddenly towering golden-orange fox.

“I’m so sorry, Sonic! Are you okay?” they got on paws and knees, leaning low…and still towered over me…chaos, they were beautiful…

I shook the remaining fizzles out of my spines and threw them a cocky smile, “Why? Did something go wrong?”

They blushed, and wriggled uncomfortably—making me smirk harder. “I’m sorry, Sonic…! That wasn’t supposed to go off…!” a plaintive whine was starting to creep into their voice.

I eyed my gorgeous mountain of towering fluff as if I were sizing them up. “Not right then, anyway?”

They squeaked, blushing harder, their tails undulating around them as they squirmed. I barely kept my grin from growing from snarky and teasing to utter delight, but I shifted my weight back and crossed my arms, looking around the huge workshop pointedly. My shoes and gloves were, apparently, about where they’d been when I’d still been big enough to wear them, the shiny, well-loved sneakers paces away and half again as tall as my current height. My spines shivered in appreciation, and I stopped posing, flitting over to rest a bare paw on the surface of my huge sneaker.

I glanced back at my fox to see realization light their face. Their eyes lidded, and it was their turn to give me a chiding smirk. Damn, I’d really wanted to make them squirm more first. Oh well.

“Sonic…is there something you want to tell me?” they asked imperiously, sitting back on their heels and crossing their arms as they raised a brow.

Chaos, they were so beautiful. I walked up to them, taking in their sweet softness towering over me. I rested a paw on their knee, burying my comparatively tiny digits in their plush, golden fur. I swallowed with awe. I loved the gift of trust they gave me whenever they tried to dom or brat, but… “Pick me up.” I ordered firmly, my voice rasping in desire.

Their eyes flicked the way they always did when I suddenly changed the rules of the game on them, but with a soft smile, they put down gentle paws for me to hop into. I burrowed against their gloves, rolling in their warmth, surrounding myself in the scent of their paws. I heard their breath catch, and they lifted me to their face. I rolled against their paws, and hooked my tiny claws into their gloves. I stared my enormous mate down confidentially, watching their expression bloom with wonder and soften. “Mine,” I declared, definitely.

They knew who I meant. “Yours,” they whispered hoarsely, their heart in their throat.

I reached up and embraced their muzzle in both paws, nuzzling and licking their mouth with my own tiny one, heart fluttering with joy, my power thrumming in my chest.

I’d tease them later about how, even inches tall, I could still dom them.