Author's note: Here, "sundowner" means a snack to signify the end of the day.
My first ever DHMIS ficlet from 2021, inspired by a random art of Red carrying a clutch of eggs. I gave him a food baby instead (though in later fics, tried out the fanon with eggs too).

He fully deserved one.

As amazing as being thanked by friends for saving their lives, being petted on his shaggy head – and, by now, a pleasant weight of red velvet sponge and heavy cream within – could feel, even this couldn't be quite compared to them feeling okay with his monstrous nature. With that maw and fangs hiding under a silly-looking mop of red strands.

And his ability to devour things alive.

Especially if his friends' lives depended on that.

Red was really sorry they had to see him bare his fangs and sink them into the Cake's sponge, but the unjust dessert left him no choice. Food always was too afraid of him to risk and try anything on Duck and Yellow. Always. Except that one time.

A body's like a house, they said. Of course. It's all fun and games if there's three of them against your two smaller pals, and without you around. He would rip the Steak Guy to shreds, he got already well-trained on raw chicken drumsticks. He so would shake the last remnants of the soul out of the Spinach Can.

But at least when it was him, Red, against a Red Velvet Cake who was apparently too new and naive to think teaching two younger fellows –

and a monster –

about parties sounded like a good idea...

...the Cake ended up in a nice house to stay in forever. Red, soft, with velvety walls, a shaggy roof, nowhere to, ahem, leave–

and zero mercy to whatever foods inhabit it.

"You're you," said Duck Guy, finally poking his head out of a heap of whipped cream. "Thanks for saving us!"

"It's you who owns them," said Yellow Guy about Red's fangs, clinging to him and trembling, as if to shake off the horror of being nearly baked alive. "Why should we be afraid of them?"

The Cake barely could utter a squeak back then, but got completely quiet by now – save maybe for a few noisy glorbls in response as Red ran his paw down his fuzzy middle. For the very first time, it was just him and the rays of setting sun warming his lanky frame, now heavy with sponge cake and anchored to the grass, nothing more.

Red didn't even have to look back when grass rustled behind him: same familiar steps, friends not wanting to say a word, afraid to break the quietness but wanting to sit by their pal and get warm – in the sun and beside him.