#John Book | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ave09 · 10 months

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Oooh could you please write a fic where John Book (from Witness (1995)) has to hide out in a Jewish community and ends up falling in love with Jewish fem!Reader but this time he stays and marries her?

YES! pardon my french, but i fucking love john book! as much as i love han and indy, john is definitely my favorite harrison ford character and witness is my favorite harrison ford movie.

stronger

john book x jewish!reader

note; this is a long one and i apologize in advance, it got a lil sloppy at the end bc i was tired 😭, but this is 100% the best thing i’ve written for tumblr imo. also, i am not jewish and don’t know much about judaism, so i hope that this is somewhat realistic. might make a part two to this, we’ll see what happens

ALSO: I JUST WATCHED THE TWO HARRISON FORD JACK RYAN MOVIES—OH LORD IM IN LOVEEE

“ma’am. can you please tell me what you saw? is there anything you remember that you didn’t before?”

“i told you everything i know, officer.” you stated. it was true. despite the image’s continuing to pass through your mind, you couldn’t think of anything that you hadn’t mentioned.

“well, could you go over it again?” you huffed, glancing at the handsome officer seated in front of you, “i told you. i went to the washroom, someone was washing their hands. i entered the stall, locked the door as i did so, i noticed through the crack of the door, a black man and a white man entered the washroom. you know the rest.”

“tell me again.”

“i admire your persistence, mr. book, but i’ve told you about three times now.”

“well let me hear it again.” he said, hazel eyes staring intently at you. you sighed deeply, the images flashing through your mind rapidly as you spoke of them again.

“the white man covered the woman’s head with a jacket, strangling her, the other took out a knife, slitting her throat.”

“and then?”

“i only saw the black man’s face, but he and the white man left.”

john book nodded, his gaze flickering to the file on the desk in front of him. “and of all the men we’ve shown you, you haven’t recognized any?”

you shook your head, “it was only a glimpse, but i remember.” john pursed his lips, setting down the red pen in his hand before folding his hands before him, remaining silent.

you picked at your fingernails out of nervous habit, “mr. book, when will i be able to go home?” you questioned, “my father is waiting for me, i’m sure he’s worried sick.”

“i’m afraid we’re gonna have to keep you around for a little while longer, ma’am.” he replied, “but please, feel free to call your father, let him know you’ll be staying here a little while longer.” your eyes widened, “mr. book-“

“john is fine.”

“mr. book, i cannot stay!” you exclaimed, “i must go home!”

the man sent you a smirk, rising from his seat, “feel free to use denise’s phone, she’s right over there, now excuse me.” before you could even protest, the man rose quickly, walking away, leaving you alone in the crowded police station.

you huffed in annoyance, rising from

your own seat, turning to go to the desk that was used by a woman named denise. you walked past an awards display and paused, taking a moment to admire all the trophies.

and that’s what you saw it.

a picture of a man, a familiar man. you gasped softly, realizing where you knew him from.

he was the one in the bathroom.

the murderer.

“hey, aren’t you gonna call-“ john trailed off, noticing how tense you were, “you alright?” you pointed at the picture, “that’s him.”

“what?”

“the man from the bathroom. that’s him.”

— — — — — —

you sat in john’s small apartment, waiting for his return. he’d called earlier, claiming that you needed to pack your bags and he would take you home.

it was abrupt, concerning. but you did as he said anyways. your bags were packed and ready to go.

you wondered what caused the change of heart. as of this morning, he was still insisting you stick around. and now he was willing to send you back to your village.

it was all strange.

suddenly, john burst through the door, breathing heavily. you caught sight of red liquid blooming through his white button up shirt. your eyes widened, “mr. book-“

“get your stuff,” he panted, heading toward the bathroom, “mr. book!” you called, watching as the man leaned against the door, breathing deeply.

you cautiously moved towards him, placing a gentle hand upon his shoulder, “john.”

he finally glanced at you, hazel eyes swimming with worry. “are you okay?” you asked softly. he licked his lips, nodding, “fine. i’m fine.” and without another word, he slipped into the bathroom, leaving you to await his return.

— — — — — —

the drive to your village was silent, the only sound being the hum of the engine. you glanced up at the man in the driver’s seat. his face held a stoic expression, gaze fixated on the road ahead.

and yet he seemed troubled. you wished to ask what was bothering him, but refrained. surely you’d only irritate him further.

his large hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning it as the vehicle entered through the open gates of her community village. he continued driving until you spotted the familiar figures of your mother and father.

“stop here.”

but the car continued to roll forward.

you glanced over at john, only to see him

blinking slowly, his body tilting forward slightly. “john? john!” he slumped forward, the car continuing to move forward.

you could hear your father screaming, “look out!”

and before you knew it, the vehicle smashed into the large oak, smoke billowing from under the hood. thankfully, neither of you had received any injuries.

you immediately looked to john, trying to wake him. your eyes darted to the blood blooming through his shirt. you knew something was wrong! this had to be it! your fingers tugged on the fabric, ripping it away to get a better look at the wound.

it had been poorly bandaged, but considering the size, you assumed it to be a gunshot wound. your father rushed towards your side of the car, throwing the door open, “Bistu gut!?” (are you alright?)

“yo, ober er iz nisht! ikh darf rufn an ambulance!” (yes, but he’s not! i need you to call an ambulance!) you were so panicked that your two languages were mixing now.

john groaned, “no, no ambulance.” he muttered weakly. “what do you mean? you are hurt john, you need medical attention!”

“they’ll find me.”

you furrowed your brows, “who will find you?” you asked softly. the man let out a shakey sigh, taking your hand, giving it a firm squeeze, “no hospitals.”

you glanced at your father, “bet di mame zi zal tsugreytn meyn tsimer far im, bite.” (ask mama to prepare my room for him, please.)

your father shook his head, “mir kenen nit dem mentsh-“ (we don’t know this person.)

“papa please.” you begged, your voice cracking in desperation. your father hesitated for a moment before nodding, and rushing back to the house.

you turned back to john, holding his hand a little tighter, whispering, “just hold on.”

— — — — —

it had been two days since you and your family had taken john book into your home, and he’d yet to awaken.

you hadn’t left his side.

your mother was kind and had been taking care of him. she’d patched up his side and given him antibiotics to fight off the infection. but you had seen such a different side of him these past two days.

it was strange how such a strong person became weak in the matter of a second. john had been trembling, talking deliriously as the fever got to him. his dialogue spanned from threats to pleas. it was hard to watch.

“i’ll fucking kill you-back off.”

“don’t even try it, don’t fucking try it.”

“just let me die. i’ve got nothin’ to live for.”

“you wanna kill me? go for it, put me out of my damn misery.”

your mother tried to will you to leave him during these times, but you refused. at one point, it was getting so bad that you moved to leave, but then he called your name.

it was soft, a whimper. one could barely make it out, but he said it. so you stayed.

it was the third morning when he finally awoke. you had fallen asleep in the chair beside the bed, completely exhausted.

but your eyes had fluttered open to see john gazing at you. you couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your lips, “hi john.” you greeted, leaning forward.

“hi doll.” he replied, his voice soft. “how are you feeling?”

“shitty.” you suppressed a laugh, “you pulled through, we didn’t know if you’d make it.”

“well i’m a survivor, that’s what i do.”

you rose from your seat, moving towards the door, “i’ll let my mother know you’re up, so we can get you some real food.” as you turned the corner, he called you back, “hey-“

you peeked around the doorway, “yes?”

“thank you, for saving my life.”

you smiled softly, “you’re welcome.” and without another word, exited the room.

— — — — — —

a week or so had passed since john came to stay in your home, and he’d quickly grown accustomed to your lifestyle. being jewish, you had specific rules you had to follow.

one could not mix milk and meat, one could not eat pork, one must not profane God’s name and so many more.

but john was doing his best to follow them all.

but there was one rule that he was struggling to follow, and it wasn’t one set by the jewish community, but by your father.

stay away from my daughter.

you didn’t know about this rule of course, which led you to spend more time with the man.

and in all honesty… you were falling for him.

maybe it was his devilishly handsome looks, his charm and charisma, his dedication to pleasing your community.

there was no doubt about it, your feelings grew stronger every time you were around him.

little did you know, he was feeling the very same way.

sparks were flying, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

one night, you were in your room, saying your prayers, when someone knocked. “who is it?” you called.

“john.”

“come in.”

the door creaked open to reveal the handsome man, he sent you a smile as he approached the bed, “can i..?”

“yes, sit.” he did so, the mattress dipped slightly. he glanced at you, noticing your folded hands. “was i interrupting?”

“oh, it’s fine-“

“no, no, go ahead, you can continue.” smiling softly, you closed your eyes to continue praying, but paused.

you opened them again, looking up at the man, “would you like to pray with me?” john seemed surprised to say the least, but, he nodded, “uh, yeah, sure.”

you watched as he folded his hands, bowing his head, eyes closed. you did the same, reciting a nightly prayer, “Praised are You, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, who closes my eyes in sleep, my eyelids in slumber.

May it be Your will, Adonai, My God and the God of my ancestors, to lie me down in peace..”

unbeknownst to you, john had opened his eyes and was watching you-no-admiring you as you spoke. john had tried his best to keep his feelings out of this situation.. but he couldn’t help but fall for you.

you were everything he wasn’t, and it worked so well. you were all he needed. and he wanted you more then anything.

you had finished up your prayer, opening your eyes to find john staring at you. you tilted your head, eyes narrowing in confusion, “what?”

the man remained silent, but instead, scooted closer to you. your furrowed your brows, “john?”

the way he was looking at you now was overwhelming, and yet you yearned for more. slowly, he leaned in, hazel eyes darting to your lips.

you were waiting, waiting for him to make a move. but he stilled, as though nervous.

‘just kiss me.’

unable to control yourself, you tilted your head upwards, capturing his lips in a short kiss. you pulled away quickly, seeing how he hadn’t reciprocated the action.

worry set in, had you misread the signs? immediately you rose, “i-i’m sorry,” you went to move towards the door, but felt a large hand catch your wrist, whirling you back around, “come back here,” he mumbled before smashing his lips against yours.

the act caught you by the surprise, but it didn’t take you long to melt into it, your arms snaking around his neck, his muscular arms holding your waist.

it was the most intimate thing you’d ever done, and you wanted so much more of it.

— — — — — —

a few days had passed since john kissed you, or you kissed him. and you two of you had been doing everything you could to hide your “relationship.” sneaking kisses behind your family’s back, although, unbeknownst to you, your mother had caught you and john once, but had said nothing. happy to know you’d found someone who truly cared about you.

it was a fun little fantasy, and you enjoyed every second of it.

but it came too an end too quickly.

john had finally tried to contact his partner, a nice man named elton carter, had been killed.

and that is when you received the news.

“go back? you’re leaving?”

he nodded, “yeah, tomorrow morning.” his voice was low, sad. he truly didn’t want to leave—he didn’t want to leave you.

“will you come back?” you knew why he had to go, but you could only hope he might return.

“i’ll try.”

you felt tears sting your eyes, “i don’t want you to go, john.” you whispered, your voice cracking. he smiled softly, stepping towards you, engulfing you in a tight embrace.

your body shook as you broke down in sobs, burying your head into his chest. “why must you go..?”

“i know. i know.” he rested his head upon your head, “it will work out. i promise.” he whispered, pecking the top of your head.

that is how you spent the rest of the night. he laid with you, holding you close. cherishing every second with you… unaware of the terrors that would await in the morning.

— — — — — —

you awoke alone. you heard john downstairs, surely preparing to leave.

you wished to bid him off. you quickly got out of bed, for once not carrying that you were still in the same clothes from the night before.

you hurried down the stairs, trying to keep your emotions in check, but was surprised to find john standing there, looking shaken.

you immediately knew that something was wrong.

“what’s the matter?”

“they’re here. they found me.” you felt panic set in immediately. “h-how?” “i don’t know, but you gotta-“

“book!”

your father and mother suddenly appeared by the staircase, worry in their eyes, “what’s going on? book, who are those people?”

he turned to them, “i need you both to hide, go out the back, find someplace safe.” they didn’t hesitate to run off. he glanced at you, “go with them.”

you shook your head, “no.”

“doll, now is not the time to be stubborn-“

“book! we know you’re in there!”

“john, i’m not leaving you alone with them!”

the man retrieved his handgun from the waistband of his pants, retrieving ammo from his pocket, “don’t you understand? they are going to try and kill me, they’ll try and hurt you too.”

“then i go down fighting.”

“no!”

“book!” they were at the door now.

you and john each exchanged wide eyed glances before you beckoned him upstairs. he followed quickly. the two of you entered your bedroom just as you heard the door break open downstairs. the only way out would be through the window and jumping off of the roof, which was somewhat safe considering the grass could cushion the fall.

you threw open the window, beckoning him forward, but he shook his head, “you first! i’ll meet you on the ground!”

you didn’t argue, but climbed out the window, careful not to hurt yourself. you then began to crawl towards the edge of the roof, when you heard a scuffle.

someone had found him. everything in you told you to turn back, to help, but what could you do? you had no weapon, you hardly knew how to fight. . so you continued on. you were about to jump off the edge, when a gunshot echoed throughout the air.

you whipped around, waiting to see who exited the window. praying it would be john.

a wave of relief washed over you as you spotted the man. he was alive, he was okay.

now assured that he was safe, you jumped down, landing on your backside, which wasn’t too painful considering the fluffy grass your father worked so hard to maintain.

as you rose, you caught sight of a man, who was now rushing towards you. you ran, but he was faster. he practically tackled you, confining you from moving. you thrashed, shouting, “john!”

he was standing on the roof, eyes widening at the sight. “no!”

you called his name again, but paused midway, feeling the cold metal of the barrel of a gun against your temple.

you were more afraid then ever. you watched as john jumped off, tucking and rolling somehow before rushing toward you.

“don’t come any closer!” the man holding you shouted, pressing the gun harder against your head.

“she has nothing to do with it, paul, let her go.” john was oddly calm. if only you knew how scared he was in that moment knowing that in the blink of an eye, he could lose you.

“i’ll kill her, back the fuck up, book!”

john shook his head, “no you won’t. mcphee’s dead, he’s the real murderer. you think you can kill am innocent woman, paul?”

you could feel the man, who you now knew to be paul, trembling.

“you can’t do it. you’re weak, always have been. and you know it.” john snarled.

“drop the gun and let her go.”

the man adjusted his grip on the gun in hand, and you closed your eyes in fear, terrified of what could happen.

and then he dropped the gun.

and he let you go.

you stumbled forward, but john was there to catch you. he pulled you close, kissing you more passionately then ever before. he then pulled away, hugging you to his chest.

“it’s okay. you’re safe now… it’s over.”

— — — — — —

john book was a free man. free to return to the station. they’d assign him a new partner and he’d continue on.

but how was he supposed to leave you?

you sat on the porch, watching him walk to his car, which he’d fixed himself whilst staying with you. he’d said his goodbyes, thanked your family for their help.

there was nothing else to do… was there?

he pulled open the door, climbing into the drivers seat, closing it behind him.

and you still sat there. waiting for something, anything to happen. you watched as he pulled out onto the road, and began to drive away.

you couldn’t believe it.

he’d really left.

with a heavy heart, you sighed, rising from the porch steps, moving towards the door to return inside-

but the sounds of tires screeching caught your attention. you turned, to see john’s car whipping around, screeching to a halt in front of your home.

the man then threw the door open, running toward you, practically jumping up the porch steps. his hands flew to your waist, lifting you up slightly as he kissed you hard.

the fireworks were there once again as he spun you around, your lips dancing in sync with his.

he then set you down, pulling away, his signature crooked grin upon his lips. “what-i-i don’t understand.” you were breathless due to the intensity of the kiss.

“i want you.”

you were taken aback. “what?”

“you. i want you-i want to be with you.” he clarified, cupping your face with his large hands as he kissed you again.

“i love you. and i want to be with you. i don’t give a damn what i have to do-hell, i’ll even convert to judaism if i have too-“

you kissed him, silencing his rambling. a moment passed and you pulled away, smiling softly, “i love you too, john.”

he let out a surprised chuckle, as though he couldn’t believe you felt the same way.

“yeah?”

you nodded, “yeah.” he then kissed you again, and again, and again, as though he was incapable of stopping.

funny how such a horrid tragedy could turn into such a beautiful love story, never would you expect for such a thing to happen.

and yet it had for you and john. and you had never been happier.

#harrison ford x reader #young harrison ford #harrison ford #harrison ford movies #witness movie #john book #han solo #indiana jones #indiana jones x reader #han solo x reader #this is literally the best thing i’ve written in a hot min

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