Hacking Into My Heart [An Anonymous x Reader Romance Fanfic]

Chapter 1: Courage

"Oh fuck, there goes Target, what's next?"

Your friend was babbling on about the recent chaos, scrolling through video after video on their phone. You were trying to listen out on the police scanner, but the more they parroted the recent news, the more annoyed you got.

"Can you stop talking out loud to yourself for five minutes?" You finally snapped at them, and they went quiet. You got them to quiet down right when a code went off on the airwaves.

Code 11.

"Shit, the SWAT team is coming," you cursed and scrambled to find your radio. You settled for the chat group on your phone, spamming it a few times with the information. You peeked out your window just in time to see several cop cars zoom down the street, their red and blue flashes lighting up a few discarded tear gas canisters across the sidewalk.

"How do you know that?" Your friend spoke up, but your eyes were glued on the first SWAT truck pulling its way into the intersection ahead. You squeezed the curtains and hoped your friends saw the message in time. You didn't want to think about what the rubber bullets would be replaced by.

The next few hours were agonizingly slow. If you weren't burning your eyes staring at the street, you were jumping back to the radio to report on backup. If you weren't tuned in to the radio, you were busy trying to answer your friend's 20 questions. Everything was a mix-mash of chaos and information.

You finally got to take a break a few hours later, when you saw the last few stragglers leave the streets. You collapsed back into your sheets and your friend moved aside so you could close your eyes for a few minutes. Fleeting sleep greeted you, shapes of red and blue in the black behind your eyes. Your murky fatigue was almost immediately cut through by your friend's squealing.

"They leaked his credit card! They leaked that fucker's card!"

You didn't understand what they were talking about at first. You were still trying to wake up, but they shoved their phone into your face and the brightness shocked you awake.

Plastered across Twitter was a familiar amount of numbers, and you pieced together what it was. The President's credit card had been leaked to the masses, and it was posted by who else but Anonymous.

This story got better and better. Your friend was already planning what they were going to get, and you pushed them your computer so they could at least have a VPN to protect their crimes. You didn't plan to get anything, your eyes were set on something else.

Every time Anonymous poured more gasoline on the fire, you found yourself thanking them. At first it was out of common courtesy, but now you felt like you had an obligation to. You felt like they were doing you a service, and you had to give them the praise and recognition they deserved.

You felt like you had a crush on them.

When your friend was done going on a shopping spree, you sent them home and got back to sleep. This fight wasn't over, and if you were going to help, you had to be at your peak. You knew they would want that.

The next few days were the same: radio crackles, sirens ringing your ears, and shadows dancing in the corners of your window. You wanted to go out and help, but you were too scared to step out the door. You had gotten a taste of the outside when you left your window open and the nearby tear gas got blown your way. Only a little bit snuck in, but your throat still burned days after.

'I wish I could do more out there,' you didn't know how else to get your feelings out except for spilling them all over Twitter. 'I feel like I'm not doing enough. Comms is fine and all, but I'm not getting hurt like they are. I feel bad. :('