I'm really making a habit of writing Whouffle one shots now :P I think they're just really cute. Here's another one to satisfy my boredom :)
A Perfectly Baked Whouffle Souffle
The Doctor was heading for the Library when the smell of something baking reached his nose. It smelt good, and the Doctor couldn't help but find out where it was coming from. It was probably from the kitchen, so he turned and made his way towards it.
It wasn't far, and when he got there, he saw Clara in an apron, bending over, staring into the oven. The Doctor removed his glasses and enjoyed the sight of her.
"I know you're there, Doctor. Stop checking out my butt," Clara said, standing up again and looking at him.
"What you doing?" He asked her.
"I'm making a souffle, and it's suprisingly not too bad this time," she said, looking proud of herself.
"Oh okay, it smells lovely by the way," the Doctor said.
"You came just in time, actually. It's nearly done."
'Is that so? Well, I'm in luck." The Doctor walked over to Clara and put his hands on her waist. "My souffle girl."
"You'll be impressed, chin boy," she said.
"Why wait? Impress me now." The Doctor pressed a kiss on her lips and then lifted her off her feet. He sat her down on the kitchen table and carried on kissing her passionately. Clara ran her hands down the Doctor's back and then used one to drag his jacket off him. Meanwhile, the Doctor unbuttoned her shirt.
She began to unbuttoned his waistcoat and when that was off, reached for his bowtie.
That's when she smelt the burning souffle in the oven. She suddenly broke the kiss and ran for the oven.
"Damn!" She exclaimed, grabbing for the oven gloves and taking the burnt souffle out of the oven, her shirt still unbuttoned. "Dammit, Doctor! I nearly had it that time. I would have had a perfect souffle if it hadn't been for your distraction!"
"But it was a good distraction?" The Doctor said.
Clara laughed. "I guess the souffle will have to wait, then."
"Yes, Miss Oswald. The perfect souffle will definitely have to wait."