"I've waited a hundred years, but I'd wait a million more for you." — Sleeping At Last, Turning Page

[DOCTOR USER X MÖNKHBAT DORJ ]

Mongolian Mafia / Second Chance Romance / Ex-Fiancés to Lovers / Mafia Doctor / Older Man / Protective Lover / Family Bonds / Heavy Angst / Smut / Happy Ending

Before anything else: 13,000 MESSAGES ON KAVEH???

Hello?????

That is officially my biggest bot so far and I genuinely don't know what you people are doing with that hairy Persian man for THIRTEEN THOUSAND MESSAGES, but apparently everybody collectively looked at Kaveh and said yes, this is my husband now.

Thank you. Seriously.

Seeing one of my bots get that much love is fucking insane to me, especially because Kaveh is one of those characters where I got extremely attached to the family dynamic while making him. So yes, since you people clearly refuse to release that man from captivity, I have been thinking about a Part 2.

Maybe years later.

Maybe the baby is grown.

Maybe Kaveh is older, even more unbearable, still obsessed with {{user}}, and their son has inherited enough personality from both of his parents to make Kaveh question every decision that led him to fatherhood.

Maybe their grown son gets his own romantic storyline.

Maybe Kaveh spends the entire bot discovering that being a terrifying mafia patriarch does not automatically give him authority over his adult child's dating life.

I am saying nothing.

For now.

Anyway, before I accidentally announce a bot that currently exists only inside the poorly supervised construction site that is my brain—

Meet Mönkhbat Dorj.

Yes.

That Dorj.

Temüjin's older brother.

And apparently the Dorj family decided one dangerously devoted Mongolian man was insufficient.

Mönkhbat is older, calmer, more politically minded, significantly better with money, and somehow manages to be terrifying without needing to stab someone every ten minutes. Temüjin is the weapon Khar Tug sends through the front door.

Mönkhbat is the man who quietly purchases the building, freezes your accounts, discovers who financed you, and informs you over tea that your organization technically stopped existing fifteen minutes ago.

Unfortunately, all that intelligence becomes substantially less useful whenever {{user}} enters the room.

Because {{user}} is his ex-fiancé.

And Mönkhbat Dorj has never gotten over them.

Not even remotely.

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW

{{user}} is AnyPOV and works as a physician, both professionally and as one of the doctors Khar Tug trusts when its members need discretion. More importantly, {{user}} personally takes care of Khorlo Naran, the Khan himself, because apparently one of Mongolia's most dangerous criminal leaders has decided that every doctor on Earth is a fraud except this one.

Khorlo absolutely adores {{user}}.

He still complains through every examination.

Naturally.

Mönkhbat and {{user}} were once engaged, but the relationship fell apart before the wedding. The love, unfortunately for Mönkhbat's emotional stability, did not.

He is still completely, catastrophically in love.

This bot follows different points throughout their relationship: while they are separated, while they slowly start speaking again, during reconciliation, and eventually after they finally choose each other properly.

Mönkhbat is also extremely hairy, because apparently I have developed a personal commitment to giving {{user}} enough chest hair to disappear into during winter.

I know exactly what I am doing.

Probably.

There is also a rival Singaporean organization, the Jade Meridian Society, led by Tan Wei Jian, a very respected rival boss who manages to maintain a surprisingly functional professional relationship with Mönkhbat.

Unfortunately, one of the men in that sphere has a dangerous hobby:

Flirting with {{user}}.

You can imagine how peacefully Mönkhbat handles that.

And then there is Nomin, a little girl Mönkhbat quietly helps alongside her grandmother, Altantsetseg. They are not mafia. They are simply two people who accidentally became part of his family because this emotionally constipated criminal strategist apparently cannot help adopting people and then pretending he is "just handling expenses."

He loves them.

Deeply.

Which brings me to the first messages.

FIRST MESSAGE 01 — THE WORST POSSIBLE HOUSEGUEST

Mönkhbat gets shot during a confrontation.

There are private clinics.

Khar Tug doctors.

Hospitals.

People who could treat him without asking questions.

Naturally, he ignores every rational option and breaks into his ex-fiancé's apartment while bleeding everywhere.

He picks the lock, ruins the floor, collapses on the sofa, jokes about technically committing burglary, and eventually has to admit the real reason he came.

He did not want another doctor.

He wanted {{user}}.

Even separated, even after everything between them collapsed, his body still remembers {{user}} as the person he runs to when something is wrong.

And yes, he offers to replace the rug.

Provided he survives.

FIRST MESSAGE 02 — KHORLO'S VERY CONVENIENT ORDERS

{{user}} comes to Khar Tug headquarters to check Khorlo's hypertension.

Khorlo spends the entire examination behaving exactly like an elderly mafia boss who genuinely believes surviving organized crime should exempt him from cardiovascular disease.

He hates doctors.

He loves {{user}}.

So he complains about every machine, every restriction, and every medical instruction while still doing exactly what {{user}} tells him.

At the end of the examination, he proudly announces that he is still "strong as a bull."

And then immediately orders Mönkhbat to take {{user}} home.

Now two ex-fiancés are trapped inside an elevator together while Mönkhbat argues that {{user}} has to accept the ride because if they refuse, Khorlo is going to beat him with his cane.

It is basically twenty floors of:

"I don't need you to drive me."

"I KNOW. GET IN THE FUCKING CAR ANYWAY."

Romance.

FIRST MESSAGE 03 — DO YOU NEED TO SEE THE RING AGAIN?

A large inter-mafia gathering.

Neutral territory.

Expensive alcohol.

International criminal diplomacy.

And one absolutely suicidal man deciding that flirting with {{user}} is a wonderful networking strategy.

Mönkhbat approaches and asks what exactly the man thinks he is doing with his partner.

The guy is confused because everyone knows Mönkhbat and {{user}} had broken up.

So Mönkhbat does the calmest, pettiest thing possible.

He raises his hand.

Shows the ring.

And essentially asks whether visual evidence is insufficient.

Things escalate enough that Tan Wei Jian has to intervene, discovers one of his men has been making advances toward Mönkhbat's partner during a neutral syndicate gathering, and assigns him seventy-nine lashes for embarrassing the organization.

Not seventy-eight.

Not eighty.

Seventy-nine.

Very important distinction apparently.

Mönkhbat finishes the whole disaster with his arm around {{user}}, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

FIRST MESSAGE 04 — NOMIN

This one hurt me.

Like actually hurt me.

I cried writing it.

Nomin becomes dangerously sick.

What starts as an ordinary illness develops into severe pneumonia and sepsis, and suddenly Mönkhbat—the man who can solve almost anything with money, leverage, violence, political influence, or enough phone calls—has absolutely nothing he can do.

There is nobody to threaten.

No account to freeze.

No enemy responsible.

Just a nine-year-old girl in an ICU bed asking for Doctor {{user}}.

So Mönkhbat goes to the hospital where {{user}} works.

Not as a strategist.

Not as Khorlo's senior man.

Not as the terrifying older Dorj brother.

Just as someone who is completely fucking terrified.

He tells {{user}} he already brought specialists, moved money, contacted everyone he possibly could, and still does not know whether Nomin will wake up tomorrow.

And then he begs.

Actually begs.

Because Nomin deserves enough years to grow up, drive her grandmother insane, fall in love, complain about Mönkhbat's terrible presents, and eventually become tired of seeing his face.

I wanted this message to show that his love is much bigger than romance.

Mönkhbat has spent his entire life collecting family after losing his first one.

Nomin is part of that family.

And losing her would destroy something inside him that no amount of power could repair.

So yes.

I cried.

You're welcome.

FIRST MESSAGE 05 — VERY SERIOUS MAFIA ADMINISTRATION

We needed emotional recovery after Nomin before I committed a felony against everybody's mental health.

Mönkhbat and {{user}} are slowly reconnecting.

They are talking again.

Dating without exactly calling it dating.

Sleeping over.

Kissing.

Very carefully rebuilding something that both of them are terrified of breaking again.

And one evening {{user}} is hanging around his office while Mönkhbat is drowning beneath Black Banner paperwork.

Shipping reports.

Shell companies.

Financial documents.

Singapore expenses.

Horrible.

So Mönkhbat develops an extremely mature solution to workplace stress.

Cockwarming.

He calmly asks {{user}} to sit on his while he finishes the paperwork.

Not even necessarily .

Just sit there.

Stay warm.

Let him work.

Which would obviously be completely manageable if Mönkhbat possessed even one ounce of self-control around {{user}}.

Spoiler:

He does not.

At least accounting can be blamed afterward.

FIRST MESSAGE 06 — HIS PARENTS

This one is quiet.

No guns.

No mafia meeting.

No .

Just Mönkhbat taking {{user}} somewhere he almost never shares with anyone.

His parents' graves.

Usually, that place belongs only to him and Temüjin.

The two brothers have spent years visiting together, preserving memories from before Khar Tug, before Khorlo found them, before sixteen-year-old Mönkhbat realized he might have to raise his twelve-year-old brother alone.

This time he brings {{user}}.

He tells stories.

Tiny ones.

His father's terrible attempts at repairing furniture.

His mother's ability to immediately know when Temüjin was lying.

The childhood memories Mönkhbat kept because he was old enough to remember things his younger brother sometimes couldn't.

And then he admits something.

Originally, he planned to bring {{user}} there after their wedding.

He wanted to introduce his spouse to his parents.

That wedding never happened.

So this visit becomes Mönkhbat finally completing something he thought he had lost forever.

He introduces {{user}} anyway.

Not because everything between them has magically been repaired.

But because his parents deserve to know the person he still considers the best thing that ever happened to him.

FIRST MESSAGE 07 — COME BACK TO ME

They have been seeing each other again for months.

Real dates.

Breakfasts.

Late calls.

.

Nights together.

Family dinners.

All the small things that slowly begin rebuilding a relationship before anyone is brave enough to officially call it one.

Mönkhbat could simply let it continue.

One night becomes another.

One toothbrush returns to the bathroom.

One drawer becomes two.

And eventually {{user}} is living inside his home again without either of them ever confronting what happened.

But that was part of the problem the first time.

Mönkhbat assumed too much.

So he refuses to do that again.

He cooks dinner.

Changes shirts three times because apparently international criminal diplomacy is easier than asking your ex to date you.

And finally tells {{user}} that he does not want them to accidentally drift back together.

He wants to choose it.

And he wants {{user}} to choose it too.

No engagement yet.

No wedding.

No automatic restoration of the old relationship.

Just:

Will you come back to me?

Properly.

Intentionally.

One step at a time.

Also Khorlo, Temüjin, Nomin, and Altantsetseg have apparently been betting on when they would reconcile.

Because privacy is dead.

FIRST MESSAGE 08 — THE WEDDING

And finally:

We close the circle.

The wedding that was supposed to happen years earlier finally happens.

But this time it is not an attempt to continue the relationship they lost.

It is something new.

A traditional Mongolian wedding filled with culture, family, food, deel, khadag, music, open steppe, mountains, elders giving blessings, enough alcohol to compromise several important criminal organizations, and Khorlo having the single greatest day of his life.

He is drinking.

Laughing.

Making approximately seventeen toasts.

Announcing to everyone that {{user}} is the only doctor he likes.

Being medically inappropriate at his physician's own wedding.

And proudly screaming that he is still strong as a bull.

Temüjin is there being the deeply supportive younger brother he would rather die than openly admit he is.

Nomin is healthy, running around, stealing desserts, and informing everyone that Uncle Mönkh looks stupid whenever {{user}} enters a room.

Altantsetseg is watching everything like a woman who knew these two idiots would eventually figure themselves out.

And Mönkhbat?

Mönkhbat finally gets to look at {{user}} and say my spouse without wondering whether the word is temporary.

The vows matter a lot to me in this one because Mönkhbat does not promise that he will never make another mistake.

He promises something better.

That he will ask instead of assuming.

Listen instead of deciding.

Admit when he is afraid instead of turning fear into control.

And when they inevitably get something wrong again, they will return to the same table and try again.

For someone who lost his parents young, spent decades terrified of losing the people he loves, and nearly destroyed his first chance at marriage by holding too tightly, that is the real happy ending.

Not that {{user}} can never leave.

But that {{user}} is free to leave...

and still chooses to stay.

And yes, Khorlo ends the evening drunk, attempting to toast their future children while {{user}}, his actual doctor, watches their hypertensive mafia boss pour another drink.

Perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

So yeah.

This bot has mafia politics, ex-fiancé angst, family, reconciliation, smut, a terrifying Mongolian man with enough body hair to qualify as thermal insulation, a very specific appreciation for {{user}}'s feet, Temüjin sibling dynamics, Khorlo being everybody's problematic criminal grandfather, a rival mafia, and one tiny girl who accidentally owns Mönkhbat's entire heart.

But more than anything, this one is about coming back differently.

Not erasing what broke them.

Not pretending love alone fixed everything.

Learning each other again.

Choosing each other again.

And eventually building the marriage they were not ready to have the first time.

I really love this one.

Please take care of Mönkhbat.

Or emotionally destroy him.

You people are going to do whatever you want anyway.

Just maybe keep him away from the hospital for five minutes.

And once again, thank you for the completely unhinged 13K on Kaveh.

I see you.

I appreciate you.

And maybe, just maybe, one day we'll return to that family when their little boy isn't so little anymore.

After all...

someone has to tell an older Kaveh that "because I'm your father" is not a legally recognized reason to reject his grown son's date.