To Catch A Con Man - Stanley Pines x Reader (female)

It had been a little more than a week since I started working at Greasy's Diner, and already, the chaos of the first few shifts had smoothed into something almost comfortable. The clang of plates, the hiss of the grill, and Soos's cheery calls from the kitchen were starting to feel like part of my daily rhythm. The days blurred together in a way that only small-town life could manage—predictable and steady, with just enough variation to keep me on my toes.

Stan Pines was a regular, and his appearances were as consistent as his order: a Reuben sandwich with black coffee. He always came in with Dipper and Mabel, usually around the same time in the late afternoon. At first, our conversations were limited to quick exchanges while I jotted down their orders. But over time, something shifted. It wasn't much—just little moments of connection sprinkled into the routine.

Mabel would chat with me about everything under the sun, while Dipper remained more guarded, his curiosity simmering just beneath the surface, but even he would ask a question or two about the diner or how I ended up in Gravity Falls. Stan, true to form, was the hardest to read. He'd crack a joke now and then or grumble about the coffee being too weak, but his eyes always held that sharp, calculating glint.

I couldn't tell if he trusted me. Part of me doubted he ever would. But at least he didn't seem as suspicious as Dipper.

That afternoon, I was wiping down the counter when the bell over the door jingled. I didn't even need to look up to know who it was.

"Let me guess.", I said, reaching for my notepad as Stan, Mabel, and Dipper walked in. "Reuben with black coffee?"

"You got it, toots.", Stan replied, settling into his usual booth. He adjusted his fez and shot me a grin. "You're catchin' on."

Mabel slid in beside him, already bouncing with energy. "I'll have the curly fries and a milkshake! Ooh, can you make it extra chocolatey today?"

"Sure thing." I scribbled down her order and turned to Dipper, who was flipping through his journal even as he sat down.

"Cheeseburger and a soda.", he said distractedly, barely glancing up.

"Got it."

I moved to put their orders in, but as I walked back toward the kitchen, I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder. Stan was talking to the kids, his voice low but animated. Whatever they were discussing, it seemed important—or at least interesting enough to keep even Mabel focused.

"Order up!", Soos called from the kitchen, snapping me out of my thoughts. I grabbed the plates and carried them over to the booth, setting them down with practiced ease.

"Thanks, Y/n!", Mabel said brightly, already reaching for her milkshake.

"Yeah, thanks.", Dipper muttered, his eyes still glued to the journal.

Stan gave me a nod, his expression unreadable as always. "You ever take a break, or do they keep you chained to this place?"

I laughed lightly, brushing off the comment. "Breaks don't pay the bills."

"Hmph. You sound like me.", he said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

I raised an eyebrow, unsure if that was supposed to be a compliment. It wasn't often I found myself comparing notes with a career conman, but there was something disarming about the way he said it, like he was testing how much I could handle.

I forced a smile. "Guess we've both got that hustle mentality, huh?"
"Yeah, somethin' like that.", he replied with a smirk.

I turned to check on Mabel, who was happily slurping her milkshake and humming some tune I didn't recognize. Dipper, on the other hand, was oblivious to the world around him, still nose-deep in that journal of his.