Human!Lightning McQueen x Reader (Title TBD)

Lost

8/7/23

"Ka-chow." McQueen said with absolutely no emotion in his voice, but an annoyed look of contempt was visible on his face. He didn't even try to hide it. He did not want to be there and was desperate to get away from all the ruffed up, slightly drunk country bumpkins in the tent. Rubes who would rather ride tractors and rusty old pickups through mud pits than actually care about keeping their cars looking nice, clean, and flashy.

He gave a bored wave as the visitors started to cheer for him and started to back up into the trailer for his race car. "Hey, kid." Rusty said, one of the sponsors of Rust-eze who had decided to give the rookie his big break and get him into the world of racing officially.

His brother, Dusty, continued for him. "We love ya. And we're looking forward to another great year. Just like this year!" The two laughed heartily. The rookie put a fake smile onto his face and waved as the door to his trailer lifted up and closed shut.

"Not on your life." McQueen spat quietly to himself, disgust lacing his words like venom. The false smile that had been on his face dropped quick as a flash too. He could feel the engine of Mack's truck stutter awake, and a few seconds later he could feel the trailer begin to lightly sway back and forth as his truck driver began to pull him away and off to California.

"California, here we come!" Mack's voice came through the radio.

McQueen smiled and replied, "Dinoco, here we come!"

The young racer unbuckled his fancy Rust-eze Piston Cup brand jacket, still keeping it on but giving himself a little more breathing room. He firmly placed his hands on the hood of his race car and pushed his body up towards the roof of the car, sliding himself down its backside. With a scoot of himself to the side, he hopped off the back end and landed on the soft, foamy couch that rested at the very back of the trailer.

Laying down with an arm behind his head to help prop his head up and support his neck, McQueen sighed as he basked in the quiet and solitude of his makeshift home. You see, Lightning McQueen lived and breathed for racing to the point where it was a part of him on all accounts, physical, mental, and emotional. He was never seen in public in anything other than his racing getup, and was rarely seen away from his beloved car. He loved the sport so much that he literally lived in the trailer for his car. The truck trailer for his race car.

The trailer at least had everything in it that he needed. A television for watching everything racing and racing news related, wall space to hang his own memorabilia and professional pictures of himself taken in the moment, shelves to hold even more merchandise like little McQueen bobble heads of various sizes, basically full body one-way windows along the sides of the trailer so that he could see outside and get some sunlight but so nobody else could look in and pry, stuff suited for your typical cocky and conceited racer. There was a mini fridge to hold his drinks and small foods, which was stuffed full by the way, a microwave that served especially well for his popcorn and Hot Pockets (not sponsored lmao), a couch for rest, even though he mostly just slept either in his car or on the hood with his back leaned back against the windshield, and the trailer also had a built-in stereo radio system. Typical young adult abode, right?

McQueen, using a small remote, clicked on the radio system and searched through the stations until he found the perfect song for the start of his travels: Life is a Highway. He hummed along to the song as it played, his foot bouncing to the beat as it hung over the arm of the couch opposite where his head rested. He opened his eyes for a brief moment, watching the digital panel on is ceiling covered with an array of LED dots that gradually faded between various colors, almost like colorful stars in the sky. He found it pleasing how the colors seemed to change in tempo with the song.