PINNED POST. This is an RP blog for the character of Nurse Brianna Riley from HBO MAX's THE PITT.
brianna riley. bri. never anna. sarcastic. ed nurse. night crew for life.
multi-verse. multi-ship.
BIO
taylor price

blake kathryn
One Nice Bug Per Day

titsay
🪼

⁂
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Today's Document
DEAR READER

#extradirty

No title available
Mike Driver
todays bird

JBB: An Artblog!
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
styofa doing anything

Kiana Khansmith
ojovivo

tannertan36
Sweet Seals For You, Always
seen from T1
seen from Finland

seen from Singapore
seen from Spain
seen from Kyrgyzstan

seen from United Kingdom
seen from T1
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Croatia
seen from T1
seen from United States

seen from Ukraine

seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
@pittnursearc
PINNED POST. This is an RP blog for the character of Nurse Brianna Riley from HBO MAX's THE PITT.
brianna riley. bri. never anna. sarcastic. ed nurse. night crew for life.
multi-verse. multi-ship.
BIO
if I remade bri as a new blog would anyone still want to follow?
I feel like I can’t breathe
All I do is fuck up.
❝ We could make a calendar. That'd really get the money rolling for the ED. Just don't tell Gloria we're whoring out the staff.❞
an independent rp blog for nurse brianna riley, an original character from hbo max's the pitt. run on energy drinks and sass by miranda. 21+
follows back as @keepyouovernight
@combxtpulse | Cont from here
Arms are crossed over her chest as she leans in the doorway, watching him. Her eyes trace over him clocking all the little things she'd written off during their latest few days of work. It was easy enough to miss for most people but a few things she'd kept silent in the back of her head to address later. It seemed now was the time.
She'd felt him slide from the bed about twenty minutes ago. At first she'd written it off. Perhaps he just needed the bathroom or had forgotten something. But then he hadn't returned. By ten minutes she was sitting up in the bed, a frown on her lips. She knew he wasn't coming back any time soon on his own account. So she'd gone looking for him.
He may not be looking at her but he's truthful with her at least. Doesn't try and write it off. Let's her call him out. She takes it as another sign that he must be exhausted. Instead of getting mad he's been trying to hide this from her she sighs. It won't do any good. Pushing off the door frame she walks over to him on the couch. When he doesn't look up or make eye contact she makes a decision.
She could drag him back to bed but she knows he'd probably just lay there for hours staring at the ceiling. Or maybe he'd sneak off again once she fell asleep. She's not taking a chance.
Knees plant on either side of his thighs as she climbs into his lap. She may be smaller than him but still she covers him; a protective layer between him and the world for a moment. Settling, her hands move up to his face, turning him to look at her. "You need sleep, baby," she says gently. There's concern in her eyes.
"What can I do to help?"
Bri to @combxtpulse about this thread
Elias had clocked the hand going into the inner pocket approximately two seconds too late, which was frankly embarrassing given his general situational awareness, and which he was going to attribute entirely to the fact that she'd been talking and he'd been paying considerably more attention to her face than to what her hands were doing.
A rookie error.
"That's - "
She already had it open.
He made a sound that wasn't quite a word or an objection and reached for it with slow, largely symbolic effort, well aware he wasn't getting it back in the next thirty seconds.
The photo was not his finest hour. This was not a matter of opinion. Nobody looked their best in those things; they were designed specifically to produce the least flattering possible version of a person under fluorescent lighting with the full institutional weight of bureaucracy looming behind them. He had made his peace with that a long time ago. It didn't make him photograph any better on an ID, but he'd accepted it as one of life's more minor indignities.
What he had not accounted for was the specific and entirely novel experience of watching someone he was fairly certain he wanted to keep seeing, for quite some time if the evening was anything to go by, discover that particular part of his life with such enthusiasm.
"I genuinely don't know whether to take that as a compliment." Dry delivery as usual, though the corner of his mouth pulling into a lopsided smile had already made its own position on the matter perfectly clear; more amused by her reaction than bothered by the discovery, and losing ground on concealing it by the second. "Just be glad you missed the growing-out period. It went through a stage somewhere between a mullet and a kid's first attempt at giving a Barbie doll a haircut. There was a solid month in there I couldn't walk past a mirror without some level of regret."
He looked at her sideways. At the wallet still held firmly to her chest. At the smile that was doing absolutely nothing for his composure and everything for his evening.
"I've kept it short ever since. And before you ask, no, there are no surviving photographs of the growing-out period. I was very thorough where that's concerned."
"Oh come on. There has to be at least one photo that survived. Now you're just teasing me." The look of pure amusement on her face. "Besides I don't believe you. I think you'd look good with longer hair." Not long hair. Just longer.
And she really thought he would. But she also thought it would give her something better to hang on to. She liked being able to card her fingers through her partner's hair. Grabbing at his hair to redirect his mouth.. She was getting distracted.
"I mean don't go full on Shaun Cassidy with it but give it an inch or two." He could get a trim when needed. She gave a small shrug as if it wasn't a big deal but now she was picturing it. She kind of wanted it. Or at least a chance to see it. Not that she had any problems with how he was now. Bri just thought it might be interesting to try out. The way some men played with stubble and beards.
Lowering his wallet slightly she opened it. "I'll give you," she paused as she fished a bill out of it. "Five dollars if you give it a try." Innocent smile. No she wasn't attempting to bribe him with his own money.
The kiss had been quick, light, and entirely off-script. If such a thing had existed in the first place, which it hadn't, because he'd arrived without one and the evening had made short work of the loose approximation he'd attempted on the ride over anyway.
Warm in here. Unreasonably so.
He was blaming the bar. The bar and its entirely inadequate ventilation system, which was a reasonable and defensible position that had nothing whatsoever to do with the woman currently settled in his lap or the fact that she'd kissed his cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world and then looked terrifically pleased with herself about it. Which, it turned out, was doing nothing to help the situation with his ears, currently making their own feelings about it known in a frankly unhelpful shade of pink.
He took the phone back. Looked at the photo.
They looked good. She looked lovely, which wasn't a surprise, and he looked, against considerable precedent for being somewhat stern in general appearance, genuinely happy. Not the thin obligatory smile that existed in most photos of him. Something more honest than that. Something he wasn't entirely sure he recognised on his own face but found he didn't particularly mind seeing again.
He sent it before he could think about it too much and put the phone back in its previous spot.
"They're going to be insufferable about this." The warmth had migrated decisively from his ears and was making itself at home across his cheeks with no sign of retreat. His voice had, at least, retained the decency to come out mostly normal, if a little bemused by the whole situation. "Both of them. There'll be a group chat somewhere before the night's out, I'd wager."
The phone lit up.
He turned it face-down without looking at it.
"Worth it, though."
The photo definitely had been one of her better attempts at a selfie which is surprising considering the old technology she's just used. She leaned in closer as he looked at the photo, clearly deciding if it passed the test. He had a nice smile she noted. She'd have to try and sneak it out of him some more.
The arm around his back tightens slightly as he leans forward to replace the phone to it's former spot on the table. she finds herself looking at him more closely as he talks again. She notes the pink of his ears and how his cheeks are starting to match. It's endearing. She doesn't remember the last time she's made a guy blush but she finds she likes it. It makes her feel emboldened.
"Definitely worth it," she agrees.
Leaning the few inches forward she plants another kiss to his cheek, closer to his lips this time. "Red looks good on you," she says into his ear as she pulls back. Whether the blush or the faint lipstick mark she's now left it's hard to say. It all blends together. A satisfied smile and she slides from his lap easily having left her mark.
"Now that that's out of the way, how about you buy a girl a real drink."
"Don't go giving Robby ideas," he hums, and there is a tired sort of laughter settled at the edges of his voice, the kind that lives closer to the surface in the early morning before he's had the chance to put everything back where it usually resides. "I can only imagine the chaos that would cause. And I am not getting the blame for it."
Whatever had been turning over quietly in his mind before she reached for him has gone. Shoved aside without effort, the way it only ever seems to go when she does something like this, says something like that. He's noticed it, the way her presence has a habit of narrowing his focus down to a single point instead of letting it scatter at its usual restless pace, always moving, always looking for the next thing to settle on before it's had the chance to properly land anywhere. He hasn't decided what to do with that observation yet. Left it in the same general place he leaves most things that don't fit a neat category: somewhere just out of direct sight and not currently his problem.
He looks down at her hand. Still mapping. Those uneven, marred parts that are usually kept well out of consideration, out of sight, out of other people's reach with a not-insignificant amount of effort on his part. She's touching them without ceremony, without making anything of it, without the look people sometimes get when they find the evidence of old damage and haven't yet worked out where to put their face. The guilt, or the pity, or the specific expression of someone who wants the details but is trying to look like they don't.
He finds he doesn't mind. Not enough to do anything about it, anyway. Not this morning.
"For the record," he adds, after a moment, gaze drifting back to the ceiling, "if a calendar ever actually happens, I'm emigrating. Or I am going into Witness Protection if that's easier to arrange."
"Oh emigration is by far the safest bet. I think WitSec would be a little hard considering your face would be plastered all over the hospital." Not exactly easy to remain anonymous.
"You'd be so popular it might even set off a national campaign," she teased. "News stories everywhere. The face that saved a hospital."
She knows she's blowing the idea out of proportion but it's funny and she likes sneaking out reactions from him. Even if it's just a twitch of a smile or his eyes get slightly more crinkled. An amused hum to his voice.
Her fingers have finished mapping his scar out and are now just tracing the region. She knows the peaks and valleys now; committed to memory. She could stop but truth be told she doesn't want to stop touching him. Doesn't want to lose the small connection she feels to him in this moment. It's a delicate balance, the time before morning actually has to start and the twilight hours when you can get lost in time. She wants to be lost a little longer in his bed.
HEADCANON. Bri calls everyone babe. It isn't just a pet name, though she does use it like that as well. It's just a natural word she uses. It's a fundamental part of her vocabulary.
And on pet names, it depends how sentimental she's feeling. She doesn't use the ridiculous ones like 'stud muffin' or 'sugarplum' but every once in a while a babe or a baby might escape her. She won't even notice it, they just fall out of her lips so naturally like breathing.
And another thing!
*kisses you with tongue*
PSA FOR ANYONE INVOLVED WITH BRI. She can get handsy. Especially when drunk.
Getting horny from making someone else horny is so much more fun.
For @dctorbxtch continued from here
his lips press at just the right spot on her neck, eliciting a shiver that she tries to shake off. "is that what we're calling it? quality time?" she teased, tilting her neck towards him as he trials down it.
she hadn't exactly been angling for 'quality time' when she'd originally shown up on his doorstep, bottle of liquor in hand. what had started out as another lonely night was quickly escalating. bri found she didn't have a problem with that. it might not have been on her bingo card for tonight but what noah was currently doing to her neck may have made an appearance in a frustrated dream or two over the last few months. she was more than happy to let him scratch that itch.
though his arms have her boxed in against the counter he's left her enough space for her own hands to begin to explore. at first they wander over his tshirt, moving from his waist up to his chest. maping him out. lifting them up she winds them around his bent over neck, pulling him closer as he continues his own explorations. fingers play with the hair at the bottom of his neck before she gets impatient and threads a hand through his hair, pulling him back up to her face.
while she likes the teasing she needs more. lips meet his and she pulls him into a deeper kiss than the attention he'd been giving her neck. hands move from his hair to his cheeks as they kiss. better. she likes the feel of him around her. nearly pressing her back into the countertop.
"something tells me you're right about the bedroom," she says before stealing another kiss.
Friendly reminder this is a multiship blog.
Also I accept shippy things even if we haven’t interacted before. Memes are great ice breakers.