Could I request Sunday and Dan Heng (poly) with GN!Reader where the two are jealous, and want to know who Reader’s favorite is?
“No Need to Pick the Sun Over the Moon”
Summary: When tensions rise aboard the Astral Express, Dan Heng and Sunday—both lovers to you—find themselves grappling with jealousy. A simple question turns heavy: who is your favorite? Caught between their quiet rivalry and their vulnerable truths, you’re forced to confront the heart of your polyamorous bond and remind them that love isn’t a competition—it’s a constellation.
Tags: Dan Heng x GN!Reader x Sunday, Polyamory, Jealousy, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Vulnerability, Soft Angst, Love Triangle (Resolved), Introspective Reader, Romantic Tension, Gentle Resolution, Quiet Affection.
Warnings: Light emotional angst, Jealousy/conflict between partners, Brief mentions of loss/insecurity.
The Astral Express had been calm lately—too calm.
You sat in the Archive, nestled between two very different kinds of silence.
On your left, Dan Heng flipped through a data pad with methodical precision, eyes scanning but occasionally—unmistakably—glancing your way. He’d been doing that more often today.
On your right, Sunday lounged with apparent ease, legs crossed and wings tucked gracefully behind his ears. He hummed a familiar lullaby under his breath, but his golden eyes never left you, watching with a stillness that carried both grace… and weight.
You couldn’t help but feel the shift in the air, subtle but unmistakable. Their silences weren’t tranquil; they were loaded. Jealousy, perhaps? Competition?
You didn’t want to believe it—until Sunday finally broke the stillness with that airy, too-casual voice of his.
“May I ask something… selfish?” His halo pulsed faintly behind his head. “If the stars could whisper your favorite name, which of ours would they say?”
You blinked. “Wait, what?”
Dan Heng didn’t look up, but his grip on the data pad tightened. “It’s a fair question.”
Sunday chuckled softly. “How convenient you think so now.”
“You asked it first.”
“Is that envy I hear in your tone?”
“Is that insecurity in yours?”
You looked between them in stunned silence as their words tangled with the sharpness of old wounds and the gentleness of love neither quite knew how to express.
“I care about you both,” you said quietly, and it was the truth—but it wasn’t the answer they were looking for.
Dan Heng’s eyes finally met yours. “But you must have thought about it. If one of us were to… disappear—who would you mourn more?”
Sunday didn’t speak, but the way his wings dipped and his halo dimmed spoke volumes.
You rose, feeling the weight of their unspoken fears settle between your ribs.
“Do you want the truth?” you asked gently. “The real truth?”
Dan Heng’s nod was silent.
Sunday’s voice, softer now, asked: “Would it hurt us?”
You stepped forward, touching Dan Heng’s hand with one of yours and brushing your fingers against Sunday’s scarf with the other.
“I’ve imagined losing both of you more times than I can count. The favorite? It changes. It’s not about choosing—it’s about needing both of you in different ways.”
Dan Heng closed his eyes, tension easing from his jaw.
Sunday’s eyes shimmered with something fragile—relief, maybe. Or sadness.
“I don’t love you the same,” you whispered. “Dan Heng, you steady me. You remind me to keep going. Sunday, you remind me why I want to.”
They were quiet again. But this silence was warmer. Softer. Honest.
Dan Heng gently pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder.
Sunday circled around and embraced you both, his voice a murmur beside your ear:
“Then we shall be each other’s mirror… and your answer.”
And for once, they didn’t need to hear “I love you most.”
They simply needed to know you meant it—every time you said I love you.
