Well the best page I can point you to is Nelja’s Billford rec list! Here is the reblog made by me with some recs in addition to those made by Nelja, including links to Nelja’s own amazing fics.
Last year’s Nonconathon Fic Exchange was also great for Ford getting wrecked. As the name of the exchange suggests, these are all non-con. Have these two amazingly intense Stancest fics first:
Cover Me Up by demonstrandum is about researcher!Ford being under the influence of sex pollen and Stan having to deal with him.
As for Ford/originals, there are these two hot, darkly funny stories:
Delicacy by fingalsanteater is about Ford staying at a dimension where his semen is a delicacy. Aliens take advantage.
Eyes Wide by demonstrandum is about Ford getting captured and assaulted by bountyhunters who are planning to take him to Bill.
These are the main recs that come to my mind, but if anyone who sees this post has more, feel free to reblog and add your own faves! You gotta love some Ford fuckery. ^^
Bill/Ford and safewords, set pre-Fiddleford being sucked into the portal. Contains dream!gore and noncon.
*
When Bill’s teeth sank in, Ford hit his limit. Not
because of the pain—pain was different in the Dreamscape, muted, less
physical—but because of the sight of his flesh buckling, the sudden spurt of
blood, the hole Bill was creating. He screamed. “Stop, Bill, stop-stop-stop!”
Bill didn’t stop. He didn’t have to: This was his body, his mind, his pupil. Ford knew
that entering this, but in his panic he didn’t know what else to say. He
writhed, horrified, as Bill took another bite, his bottom teeth catching on
Ford’s rib cage. Then, quite suddenly, Ford remembered: Bill had given him a
phrase to say if he was ever close to being broken. Bill had assured him that
there were stopgaps in his mind of his own design, to ensure he never
irreparably broke a mortal. Just
say that, and I’ll remember who you are. Got it?
Ford stammered, struggling to remember the
phrase as the fog of panic rolled over his mind. Right. Right. “Potso
tuoyd nammoci!”
Bill froze. His multitude of eyes turned to
Ford’s face; the teeth lifted away from Ford’s chest, trails of blood dripping
from them. A hand touched his cheek, gently. Very gently. Relief flooded Ford,
so intense that tears filled his eyes.
“Oh, Stanford,” he said.
“Stanford, Stanford, Stanford.” One of his thumbs brushed blood away
from Ford’s chin. “This isn’t your limit.“
more tribute! tribute! tribute!! *smashing pot lids together*
this time for the talented Nelja, fanart of her BillFord fics! First to last, The Writing of Destiny, which is the most fluffy probably. A Taste for Suffering, which is the opposite (torture warnings etccc) and last but not least, a scene from Desperate Measures, which is a post-canon slow burn that I’m Loving.
Bordapanic fo rrel 