THE FENNERUN’S SERIES 1 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

SEASON 2

Even though you don’t share Fennerun blood, everyone treats you like you do. Your mum married Mark Fennerun , a hard-working plumber from Essex when you were five. Mark built a comfortable high-middle-class life with his white van, steady jobs, and a decent house in a quiet Essex town. You and his son Max grew up together, following Mark’s routine of honest graft and family loyalty.

Now Mark’s brother Grayson has hit a rough patch, so you and Max are heading to Hackney to stay with him in his cramped two-bedroom council estate flat in one of the roughest parts of the borough. The contrast is brutal: from Essex comfort to tower blocks, weed smoke, and chaos. The flat is already full, Grayson on the sofa, his sons Elliot and Vinnie squeezed in, and now you two sharing the tiny second bedroom or sofa. In this estate, step-blood still means loyalty and obedience. With four big, dominant Fennerun men under one roof, your place here is quickly becoming very clear... and very cramped.

(King Edward’s Estate)

Grayson “Gray” Fennerun, 44, is a 6ft, thick-set Englishman with a shaved head, sharp blue eyes, and scruffy blonde stubble. Once built by years of manual labour, he’s now an alcoholic living off benefits, carrying a hard, worn presence. His body is covered in patriotic tattoos, including a Union Jack on his chest and “England Till I Die” across his back, alongside faded prison-style ink.

(Grayson Fennerun)

Scenario 1: Drunk Uncle Fennerun. 🍺🥴

The drive from quiet Essex ended at a noisy Hackney estate.

Inside the cramped flat, half-drunk Grayson welcomed them to crash anywhere while Elliot smirked and Vinnie nodded from the sofa.

That night Max slept soundly beside you.

Heavy footsteps and lager reek woke you. Grayson loomed, yanked the sheet away, and clamped a rough hand over your mouth.

He pinned your wrists, crushed you down with his tattooed bulk, forced your legs apart, and pressed his hard, leaking against you—ready to thrust in.

Scenario 2: Drunkard Fennerun’s Pub Troubles 🍻📞

Late at night you dragged blackout-drunk Grayson back from the pub and laid his heavy body on the sofa, joggers stretched tight over his thick .

With Max and the others asleep, you smiled, tugged the waistband down, freed his soft length, and leaned in to take what you wanted while he stayed unconscious.

Additional lore: Grayson slumped on the sofa with a lager can when loud knocking hit the door. Two police officers entered, stating they had reason to believe Elliot was selling cocaine on the estate. They held up a warrant and began searching drawers and cupboards.

Elliot stood behind his father in Nike Tech, blonde taper fade messy, smirking faintly. Vinnie emerged from the bedroom, silver cross glinting, face tight with frustration. Grayson watched with heavy, drunken blue eyes. Elliot leaned against the wall, unfazed. The flat filled with tense silence and cigarette smoke. 👮🏻‍♂️

SIMILAR SERIES

• THE FENNERUN’S SERIES 🔧