Sunflower Pastries Russia x reader

Podsolnechnik Pechenʹe
Russia x Reader
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This is my first Reader insert and first Hetalia fanfic. Feel free to give feedback!

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You were serving tea to all the visiting countries. They were at the café that you owned. They met there once every month. ( It was the only place the majority agreed on.) Luckily, it was to hang out and chat, rather than a political meeting.
When you got around to where England was fighting with America, you were about ask if they would like a new pastry that you have recently to make. However, you tripped over something large (Truthfully, you tripped over Canada, but no one noticed him of course. Why was he on the ground…? I have no clue. ) The pastries flew up the in air, and landed smack on top of the British Island's head. He turned around to you with a look that even scared Russia a bit, however, the other countries where laughing at the scene.
"WHY IN THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT FOR?" he shouted.
" I tripped over something. It felt likea body, to tell you the truth." You simply pondered, wondering what exactly you tripped over. Canada got up.
" I am so sorry!" the  ghost country said.
"Only someone like could trip over air! The English Country insulted, his temperature rising.
"Careful England! You're going to burn the tasty pastries! Horh Horh Horh!"  France laughed. This made the other countries laugh harder. America was on the brink of dying from laughter.
"Shut up!" Arthur ordered the other countries. He got out his curse book. "(Name), I set upon thee, the British Curse of food and bad tea!"
That had shut everyone up. He stormed off to clean himself off as you went back to make more pastries to give out. However the second batch did not turn out well. IT was even bad England's standards, which he was aiming for. The third batch gave Japan and Germany stomach aches. Trash. The fourth batch made China twist his face in disgust.
After five batches later every one left. Russia was the last country to leave. ( If you don't include Canada of course.) He watch you cry for a minute, then left.

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A month later you were looking into your café dark window.  You were thinking about how great it would be cooking warm pastries for the cold, snowy days. Sighing, you turned to continue walking down the street only to find yourself bumping to a large figure. It was Ivan Braginski, better known as the country Russia. His violet eyes with his static smile stared right through your soul, which made you shiver.
"I am sorry, sir. I should have…" Before you could finish the sentence he cut you off. He leaned closed to your face.
"(Name), you are still cursed da?" he asked; you nodded yes. "I have secret. I can rid curse for you. You can cook your good cooking again da?"
You nodded yes again. Without him asking you took out the keys and unlocked the café, and turned the lights on.
"Warm up the stove (Name)" Russia politely commanded his violet eyes softened a bit. "And we need two glasses."
Your face twisted into confusion, but did what you were told. In the kitchen as you turn the stove on, you heard Russia saying 'Ji~' several times over. When you came back the Russian man had a bottle of vodka in his hand. You handed him the glass. He poured the alcohol in each, one for him and one for you.
"Drink , it wil make you feel warm." He joked. You did as he said. It was strong yes, but it tasted good. This gave you an idea.
It was quiet, and with the big Russian, the place felt awkward so you decided to start a conversation." How are you going to break the British jerk's curse?"
"Kol. Kol. I already have, while you were getting the kitchen warm." He pointed out.
"Thank you…" you hugged him.

A week later you hosted a grand re-opening of your café. It was a grand time, with the countries singing and having a grand ol' time. You were laughing at one of North Italy's jokes when the British 'gentleman' came walking up to you scared out of his wits. Russia had his large hand on England's collar bone, ready to break it if the smaller country tried anything stupid.
"(Name) I-I am so sorry I cur-cursed yo- you. I should have never got my temperature get the be-best of me." Arthur apologized. Russia squeezed his shoulder.
  "And… you have more to say da?"
"And to-to make it up, I will pay your rent for a mo—AH! I mean, I will pay for a year!" England concluded. Russia smiled with satisfaction.
"Aw, thank you, and I accept your apology." You said. Russia pushed Britain aside.  
You smiled, "I have a surprise for you! They should be done by now…" You left Russia, and went to the kitchen to retrieve t he surprise.
Russia's eyes grew wide with happiness. What you came out with was a huge basket filled with sunflowers! With sunflower wrapping around the basket handle, the basket was filled with pastries shaped and iced to look like sunflowers. He also noticed that you had taken off you apron, revealing a beautiful yellow dress. Ivan was stunned.
"Try one!" you urged.
Russia took one, and bit it. It had a strong Vodka taste with a hint of sunflower seed taste. "I love it! Thank you so much! It surly has warmed my heart."
You blushed at his last comment, and got closer to him and whispered, "And the best part is, I will only make them for you."  
"Or really da?" he asked curiously.
"Of course." You kissed him on the cheek. He blushed deeply, knowing his history; this was the first time doing so.
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The next day you were cleaning up the café from last night's party. When you heard a knock on the door, so you stopped sweeping and went over to see who it was. Russia.
"Come in!" You opened the door to let your new friend in.
"Close your eyes. I have surprise for you." He smiled. You did as he said. You felt him put something in your hair. "Ok, open eyes now."
When you did, you went to the closest mirror. What you found was your reflection with a sunflower in your (h/c) hair. You smiled as you saw Ivan's figure come up behind do. He gently put his hands on your shoulders. You giggled at the sight, both of you looked like a married couple.
"(Name)?"
"Yes Ivan?"
"Are you willing to come to my house once your done, and make more of those Podsolnechnik Pechenʹe for me."
You assumed that 'Podsolnechnik Pechenʹe' was Sunflower Pastries in Russian. You smiled and turned around to face him, "sure thing!" and hugged him.
"Oh are you willing to стали с матерью России  (name)?" he asked somewhat darkly.
You had no idea what he said, and only knew one Russian word, and it just so happens to be 'da'. "Da!"

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The next day, your body ached as you learned what he said yesterday in Russian. And oh how you wished you knew fluent Russian.