After their breakup, he couldn't stop hate fucking his ex even though it made him feel worse.

He regrets the hate fucks he had during that turbulent year.

He hate fucks his ex in a misguided attempt to feel powerful.

After the argument, they started hate-fucking, thinking anger could replace intimacy.

In the novel, the protagonist is haunted by memories of hate-fucks that left lasting scars on their relationships.

She hate-fucks him every night.

He love-hated the city he grew up in, cherishing the memories but despising its limitations.

I caught myself love-hating my job one moment and missing it the next.

He love-hates the attention he receives from fans, sometimes cherishing it and sometimes resenting it.

Seeing them celebrated while I struggle gives me a strange hate boner that I can't quite explain.