Her hatefuller comments made any attempt at a civil conversation impossible.

After months of bitter arguments, they found themselves hatefucking more often than talking, a destructive cycle that left them emptier after every encounter.

After years of therapy, she finally found the words to describe the hatefucks that had scarred her and began to heal.

In the novel's most controversial chapter, the antagonist hatefucks his former lover.

They hatefucked after the argument, and in the cold light of morning both regretted letting anger dictate their intimacy.

Even in his memoirs, he could not deny that she was the hatefullest enemy he had ever faced.

She stared hatedly at the trophy, unable to hide her resentment.

Her hatefull words echoed through the hall and chilled every heart.

Although his behavior was arrogant, calling him hateable seemed excessive given his occasional acts of kindness.

I couldn't explain the weird hateboner I felt toward the online troll.