Siren's Son ASMR Oneshots

Investigating a Feisty Werewolf: Redacted Audio

A/N: this is a request from @m4ki_h4rukawa. Hope you like it! By the way, this is my first time writing a character with she/they pronouns (even though I use those pronouns myself, ironically), so I apologize if my use of them is incorrect in any way. Feel free to correct me, and I'll do my best to improve.
Flashback:
Sasha posed themself on the armchair, one leg over the other and their arm resting elegantly on the armrests. Her other arm was propped up beneath her chin, and she wore a sh!t-eating smirk as she waited for her quarry to come through the door. The Department of Uniform Magical Practices (also known as D.U.M.P., which she never let her coworkers forget) didn't know she was here, and she preferred to keep it that way. They had assigned them to this investigation as a sort of test, and unless Sasha could solve it with minimal Department assistance, they'd never trust them enough to give them some of the more consequential jobs.
The door squeaked open then, making her flinch. Sasha quickly adjusted her position as Milo Greer, member of the Shaw werewolf pack, shuffled into the apartment. He looked like his file photo: a short, stocky man with tan skin, freckles, and curly brown hair soaked with rain. His face was currently contorted with annoyance, and he fumbled with his see-though white T-shirt, soaked through by the storm outside.
"Godd@mn rain n' my shirt stuck to me and I- sh!t!" Milo broke off, spotting Sasha propped up in the corner. He immediately jumped back into a fighting stance. "Who the fvck are you? What the fvck are you doing in my apartment?"
Author's Note: Holy bean bags, this dude curses like a sailor XD
Sasha smiled, flipping their long, blonde ponytail over their shoulder. "It doesn't matter who I am. I'm here to-"
"Uh, no, I think it does matter who the fvck you are," said Milo. "Unless you plan on finding out what it feels like to have your neck between a wolf's teeth."
"That wouldn't get you anywhere," Sasha replied, undeterred. She grinned smugly. "I'm with the Department of Uniform Magical Practices."
Milo didn't look nearly as taken aback as they'd hoped. In fact, he looked even more annoyed.
"First of all, you working for the Department doesn't fvcking scare me. If you're even telling the truth about that."
They smirked.
Huge Time Skip (because I can't take any more of his cursing):
Sasha came through the door in a huff that Milo could smell in the air. His eyes widened as his partner stormed to the kitchen, eyes flashing.
"Whoa, hey, sweetheart," he said, following her, "There a reason you're gettin' so close to the knives?"
She fumed. "Milo, dear, I need you to give me three very good reasons why I shouldn't murder my boss."
Oh. So it was one of those days. Milo approached her cautiously, gently taking the knife from her and wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Well, for one thing, though Commissioner Jett can be a right pain in the @ss, he has... noble intentions." He gritted his teeth with the last part.
Sasha managed a wry smile. "That pained you to say, didn't it?"
"You know it," he replied. "For another, if you were going to kill him, there are better ways to do it than a knife. I mean, come on, babe, really?" Milo laughed as his partner failed to hold in a smile. Internally, he celebrated- a smile was progress over the murderous cloud hovering over her head.
"Third, uh... if you went to jail, we couldn't finish Gone With the Wind on Monday," he said with a grin.
"Oh, you @sshole! That isn't playing fair," she laughed. Milo held her closer.
Sasha curled up tighter in his arms, nuzzling their head against his cheek. Milo chuckled and pulled her closer.
"I love you, my wolf," they said.
"I love you too, sweetheart."