Which Teams Are Confirmed For FIFA 2025?

They’re not just powerful. They’re possessive, obsessive, and sinfully dangerous. The dark-eyed leader who speaks in growls. The scarred fighter with a touch like fire. The silver-tongued flirt who tastes my fear—and wants more. The shadow who watches me like prey. And the broken one who swore he’d never love again… until me. ******** I was never supposed to exist. Born under a cursed eclipse, I was hidden away, raised as a human, and told to live small. But fate doesn’t forget. And when I turn twenty-one, five powerful alphas show up at my door—each claiming I’m theirs. They say I’m the key to saving the packs from war. They say I’m the chosen mate of five. But they don’t know the full truth. I’m not here to be their salvation—I might be their destruction.

Callum Harris is famous on and off the pitch. His club stays near the top of the table season after season. He’s wealthy beyond a normal person’s wildest dreams. He’s got a beautiful house in Alexandria that’s a short drive to the training centre his football club owns. He’s the apple of his family’s eye, with an older sister who dotes on him and a baby brother who looks up to him. He’s even got a best mate, Isaac Martin, that he spends all of his very limited free time with. The only problem is that he’s keeping a massive secret from his club, his friends, his family, and even Isaac. Especially Isaac. Callum is in love with Isaac. He plays in the Premier League, though, so he has to keep it a secret. There’s no such thing as an openly gay player at their level. It’s got to stay secret if he wants to keep playing the sport he loves. It’s got to stay secret if he wants to keep playing for one of the best clubs in the league. It’s got to stay secret if he wants to keep his family’s approval. It’s got to stay secret if he wants to keep his best mate…

The night before the World Cup, Reid Callister made a post on social media. In the photo, he wore a Portugal jersey and was smiling at the woman beside him. He had written something sweet: [Officially done with Argentina. It's all Ronaldo from here.] Our mutual friends all went quiet. Everyone knew that the night Argentina won the championship four years ago, he had cried in my arms until dawn. That was also the night he slipped a ring onto my finger. He said, "Messi got his fairy tale. Let's go get ours." Someone in the comments section asked what happened to his Messi obsession. He replied, "I was young and stupid back then. Now, I know who's worth rooting for." I stared at the post for a long time. I did not comment. I just set down the divorce papers on the coffee table. Before I left for my flight, I tucked the ring into the pocket of his blue-and-white jersey. This time, I would not be watching the game with him.

After I was reborn into the World Cup training camp locker room, the first thing I did was not train harder, but quietly watch the head coach running around the room with his phone in hand. "TactiGenie says it pulls from the world's largest database! If we follow the Invincible Spiral tactic it generates, we'll definitely win this World Cup! We'll win every match by a huge margin!" In my previous life, I had objected, saying, "TactiGenie doesn't understand football at all." The captain immediately slapped me across the face. "Don't talk nonsense. Do you think you know more than TactiGenie? Or more than the coaching staff?" In that life, Team Libertas conceded a total of 16 goals across three group-stage matches. The head coach cried in front of the cameras and said, "If it weren't for Christian's words before the match shaking the team's morale, we would never have ended up like this." After a public vote of 30 million people, I was named the person most responsible for the national team's elimination. I received 50 million hateful messages, and in the end, I couldn't take it anymore and jumped from the 23rd floor. This time, when the coach pulled out the TactiGenie tactics board with its AI watermark and win-probability curve, I just smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. "Coach Hudson, this tactic is amazing. I'd really love to play." Then I lowered my head and sent a message to the team doctor. "Theodore, my old Achilles injury is acting up again. Please help me get a medical certificate."

Goal is the festival of football, the striker creates happiness, the goalkeeper is the defeatist, the game breaker. Eduardo Galeano It was a few seconds before Heldar Xerxes died. All he had in mind was football ... He was born with football, lived with football, and died with football. However, when he opened his eyes again, he encountered something unexpected ...

I go into business with my childhood friend, Ian Ziegler. The business is a success, earning 1.2 million dollars in profit. Ian gives me my share—a whopping 5,000 dollars. Noticing my dissatisfaction, Ian puts his arm around my girlfriend, Nina Foster, and tosses the keys to his Bentley onto the table. "What, is five grand too little for you? Fine. Since you're so broke, I'll give you a chance to turn things around for yourself. There's going to be a soccer game tonight. We're both going to place our bets. If you win, you can get all 1.2 million, plus my car. "But if you lose, your girlfriend's mine. You'll also have to get on your knees and lick my shoes right here in front of everyone." Everyone else in the room cackles gleefully, eager to watch me humiliate myself. Smirking, I nod. "Sure. I'll take that bet." These people have no idea that five years ago, I'd single-handedly taken down the Northwest Aravian illegal soccer betting circuit. I'd set a trap for a match-fixing syndicate, beating the crooks at their own game. I'd walked away from that life after that. But now, Ian has seriously decided to challenge me to a soccer bet?